


the anatomy of a king (and his fall from grace)

by lesliexrae



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe- Mafia, Cancer, Children, Everyone Has Issues, M/M, Mental Instability, Open Relationships, Recreational Drug Use, Tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2019-10-11 13:49:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17448194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesliexrae/pseuds/lesliexrae
Summary: “Get the fuck out of here,” Tyler hisses, voice deep.The door clicks shut, and Tyler sighs, shoulders sagging.“Looks like we’re moving,” Tyler murmurs, watching Sebastian suck on the bottle’s nipple. “Do you like Texas?”Sebastian makes his signature ‘I’m about to cry and there’s nothing you can do to stop it’ face, and Tyler sighs.“Me too, buddy. Me too.”





	1. September.

**Author's Note:**

> previously was: the anatomy of our prayers (will ruin us eventually)
> 
> i decided to revise the original because i just felt like something was missing from it. i hope that you enjoy this version better; it's more coherent (at least in my opinion). some things will not change, while some things will. 
> 
> basically, this is set in an alternate universe where the nhl is one big organized crime family, and tyler seguin comes along and causes just the right amount of chaos. 
> 
> all mistakes are mine, as this work is unbeta'ed.

Tyler smiles, picking up Sebastian from his high chair. He settles Sebastian onto his hip, walking into the kitchen to prepare a bottle of formula. He expertly pops the lid off of the baby formula tin, digging for the scoop while he makes faces at the young boy. He pulls the scoop to the top of the powder before turning away to open the cabinet door behind him. He pulls out a bottle with zoo animals dancing around the bottle. 

“Patience,” He coos, hoisting Sebastian higher on his side. “You’re getting chucky, aren’t you?”

Sebastian smiles. 

“Chunky baby,” Tyler coos, bouncing the baby gently on his hip. 

He grabs the water purifier off of the counter, pouring eight ounces of water into the bottle before scooping some formula into it. He starts to shake the bottle when a knock comes upon his door. 

“Sebby, do you think that’s Marchy?” He asks, moving towards the apartment door. “You think he’s back from the store already?”

He puts the bottle in between his ring finger, and his pinky finger as he pulls open the door. 

“Jaro?” Tyler asks, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Come in.”

Jaromir nods, a tight smile gracing his face. Tyler closes the door behind his guest before he continues to shake the bottle. Jaromir doesn’t take a seat on the couch, opting instead to stand in front of the coffee table.

“What brings you to Boston?” Tyler asks, maneuvering to cradle Sebastian. “Everything okay?”

“You’re going to Dallas,” He states. “The Council voted to move you to Dallas. Jamie Benn needs an underboss.”

Tyler stills. “You what?”

“Dallas needs an underboss,” Jaromir repeats. “Gretzky decided to give you the promotion.”

“I don’t want it,” Tyler replies, moving the nipple of the bottle over Sebastian’s lips until he latches. “Tell Wayne to move someone else.”

Jaromir shakes his head. “We voted. 4 to 3, you’re going to Dallas. We called Jamie, and Zdeno already.”

Tyler shakes his head. “Are you serious?”

“Jamie expects you by the end of next week,” Jaromir replies in lieu of confirmation. “A change of scenery is never a bad thing, Tyler.”

“Get the fuck out of my apartment, Jaro.”

The older man nods, walks towards the door. He turns around as he puts his hand on the doorknob. 

“I wouldn’t have voted for it if it wasn’t a blessing in disguise for you, Segs.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” Tyler hisses, voice deep. 

The door clicks shut, and Tyler sighs, shoulders sagging. 

“Looks like we’re moving,” Tyler murmurs, watching Sebastian suck on the bottle’s nipple. “Do you like Texas?”

Sebastian makes his signature ‘I’m about to cry and there’s nothing you can do to stop it face’, and Tyler sighs.  

“Me too, buddy. Me too.”

 

Tyler arrives in Dallas against his wishes on a stormy Thursday morning.  

The humidity hangs heavy in the air, the skies a shade of unwelcoming grey. Thunder cracks in the distance as Tyler looks for his connect in the crowded airport. A part of him regrets flying into Dallas Fort Worth Airport; the airport was always a cluster fuck. 

His duffle bag digs uncomfortably into his shoulder; Sebastian’s carrier digs into his hand. He shifts the strap around for a moment, looking for a moment of fleeting relief. He stops, pulls out a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. He can barely read the smudged writing, but he manages to make out the  _ Jordie _ . 

He reads through the rest of the list as he shifts the strap around. He had arranged for his car to be waiting for him at his house, for his house to be furnished when he arrived, hell, he had even arranged for food to be in his cabinets when he arrived home. 

Tyler had prepared for Dallas. 

He has Brad to thank for that; Brad had always been the calmer one between them, knows that it is a small blessing.

"Tyler!" Tyler fights a jump as a hand lands on his shoulder, squeezing. Tyler turns to look at the man. "Welcome to Dallas."

The man is slightly taller than Tyler, more muscular too, but Tyler plays along. His red hair sticks up in every which direction, his eyes dull. The man takes his hand off of Tyler’s shoulder. 

Tyler smiles, wide, "Glad to be back!"

"Jamie’s excited to meet you," The ginger says. "I’m his brother, Jordie."

Tyler nods, following Jordie towards the doors. "Saint already fill you guys in?"

Jordie nods. "He called a couple hours ago, and talked to Jamie. I’m just here to drive you home. No one told us that you were coming with a kid. Is he going to be okay in the back seat?"

“Saint didn’t tell you guys that I was coming with a child?” Tyler asks. 

Jordie shakes his head. 

“Fuck. Yeah, Sebs will be okay,” Tyler replies. “I’ll just sit in the back with him.”

Jordie nods, although Tyler wants to roll his eyes; it’s so like Saint to wait until the last minute. Instead, he hums, following Jordie through the congested airport parking lot and to a sleek BMW i8. Tyler throws his bag into the back, opening the back door to put Sebastian’s carrier into the back seat.  He hops into the back seat, putting a protective arm over the carrier to hold it in place. His shoulder aches, a deep, throbbing pain. Tyler reaches back with his right hand, attempts to rub the pain away. 

“Where are you going, kid?” Jordie asks, looking at Tyler through the rearview mirror.

Tyler repeats his address that his real estate agent had emailed him.

Jordie hums. “Nice neighborhood. Close to a good daycare, too.”

Tyler shrugs. “Won’t be needing a daycare.”

Jordie raises his eyebrow. “Baby mom in the picture?”

Tyler shakes his head. “No.”

“How old is he?”

“Eight months,” Tyler replies, watching Sebastian’s eyes dart around. 

Jordie nods. The pair remain silent for the rest of the car ride, Tyler too focused on the small child. 

"Welcome home," Jordie says as he pulls into Tyler’s driveway. 

The house has a white brick exterior, with large windows staring back at him. Tyler takes the keys when Jordie offers them. He smiles, grabs the baby carrier seat before getting out. He grabs his bag out the back, slinging it onto his shoulder, and walks towards the front.

"Welcome to Dallas," Jordie yells out the drivers side window. 

Tyler nods, and waves as Jordie backs out of his driveway, and onto better things. 

He sighs as he looks at his new house. The white brick reminds him of the church that his mom made him and his sisters go to when they were in Toronto; reminds him of the meetings that his father used to hold in the Church a block and a half away from their house. He shakes his head as he looks at all the glass in the front of the house; he hadn’t thought that through, he realizes. It would be too easy for someone to break the glass to gain entry, but it’s too late to change it, so he unlocks his new front door, and starts his new life. 

He sets down his bag, going over to the white, microfiber couch to set down the baby seat carrier. 

“You like it?” He asks, gently nudging the carrier back and forth. 

Sebastian doesn’t smile. 

“Yeah buddy, me too.”

 

Friday evening rolls around quietly. 

Tyler had been up almost all night making lists of new things that he needed, things that he needed to fix, things that needed to be changed around the house. By the time eight rolls around, Tyler’s bone deep tired after a long day of keeping Sebastian entertained and fed, while trying to figure out this whole move to Dallas. Tyler wants nothing more than to sleep, but he knows that he can’t yet, not with the house a mess; not to mention that Sebastian absolutely did not like it when Tyler tried to read a bedtime story to him, and refused to go to sleep until Tyler finally relented and called Marchy. 

“What’s up, Seggy?”

Tyler rubs his forehead. “Listen, I’ve tried reading Seb this story for ten minutes, and he won’t stop crying, will you read it to him? He’s always liked your voice more.”

Brad laughs. “What story?”

“Goodnight Moon,” Tyler replies, putting the phone on speaker. “Just, please.”

Sebastian takes a deep breath, ready to scream again when Brad begins to read the book. Sebastian stops, kicking his feet as he listens to Brad’s soothing voice. 

Brad gets halfway through the story, and Sebastian’s asleep, out like a light. 

“Thank you,” Tyler murmurs, backing out of the room. “He would not go to sleep for me.”

Brad laughs. “No, hey it’s fine. How’s Texas?”

“Fucking bullshit,” Tyler replies. “Only good thing so far is the Candace did a great job getting the house together.”

“House?” Brad asks. “Someone upgraded.”

“Oh, well. It’s in a good school district, and a super good daycare is nearby.”

“Looking for a nanny?” Brad asks. “I’m sure Saint has some recommendations.”

“For a nanny that’s babysat for the Mafia before?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I’ll find someone. I’m sure I could convince my mom to come down here for a couple weeks to help.”

“You’re going to do great, Ty. Brownie would be proud, you know?”

Tyler nods, looks towards the mostly closed door. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

Halfway through the night, he decides that he should explore his new home, his new city. Saint had tried to tell him that Dallas was supremely different from Boston, but Tyler had shrugged him off; Boston and Dallas were just two big ass cities, no different than Toronto. However, he knew that his knowledge of Boston’s back alleys and lesser traveled areas had saved his ass more than once, knowing Dallas could do the same. Tyler wasn’t dumb, he knew that the business he was in was dangerous, and knowing the back, seedy alleyways would almost always save his life.  

Tyler ends up in downtown Dallas. The storm that had been predicted to hit Dallas earlier in the afternoon had curved north, leaving Dallas dry and humid. Through the skyline, Tyler can see the moon high in the night sky. 

He’s walking through the city, trying to scope out alleys, or other ways to escape should he need to. He’s dressed casually, dark wash jeans with a white button up shirt. His pendant of Saint Christopher hangs around his neck, bouncing with every step. 

He’s passing by a colossal bank when a police officer comes to walk next to him. He doesn’t acknowledge the officer; he keeps his gaze forward and continues walking. The officer keeps up with him for two blocks before he speaks. 

"Welcome to Dallas, Tyler," The officer says, and Tyler feels his heart drop. 

"Thank you," Tyler replies easily. 

"I’m letting you know, whatever you’re doing here, it’s not going to fly. This isn’t Boston."

Tyler shakes his head, laughs. “I’m just a citizen who decided that the cold wasn’t for me. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Does Jamie know that you’ve arrived?”

“Who’s Jamie?” Tyler smirks. “I don’t know anyone named Jamie.”

Tyler winces as he’s shoved up against a car. His arms are twisted behind him, and he hisses in pain as his shoulder is forced into an uncomfortable position, pinching his scar tissue.

"Really?" Tyler laughs. "Isn’t this a bit much?"

"You’re under arrest for disorderly conduct. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can be held against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you can not afford one, you will be provided one without any cost to you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?"

"Sure do, buddy. Let’s go," Tyler replies easily. 

Tyler laughs the whole walk back to the police officers car. He stares at the bustling city as he’s driven to the precinct. He had never quite seen buildings like the ones in Dallas; Boston had been beautiful, but Dallas was almost classier in a more laid back way. Boston was history in person, Dallas was history being written. Tyler sighs as the car comes to a stop. It didn’t take long, which surprises Tyler. He smiles as he’s manhandled through the  precinct, laughs through booking, and smiles in his mugshot. When he gets his phone call, he calls Saint. 

"This is Saint," He answers. 

"I need you to call Big Benn," Tyler says. "I’m in Central Division precinct."

He listens as Saint sighs. "You literally just fucking got there."

Tyler shrugs even though he knows that Saint can’t see. "What can I say? I’m good at getting into shit."

“Tyler fucking Seguin. Oh my god,” Saint groans. “You’re such a pain in my ass.”

“I know, but listen, Sebs is at home. I need you to tell Jamie to get someone to my house.”

Saint hangs up after promising to call Big Benn. Tyler smiles at the officer when he’s escorted back into holding. 

Early the next morning, Tyler’s bailed out by a Kari Lehtonen, and escorted out of the Central Division precinct by a blond haired man, who he assumes to be Kari, with a court date in his hand. 

Kari’s nice enough to open the back door to a sleek black BMW i8 for Tyler. He slides into the back while Kari gets into the front. Jamie Benn looks menacing enough in pictures, emotionless brown eyes and broad shoulders, but in person, Tyler realizes that Jamie fucking Benn is terrifying. His eyes are dark as he scans over Tyler, his face withdrawn. One lone strand of hair hangs onto his face. Jamie was a lot bigger in person than he was in pictures; Jamie Benn was a beast. 

"Tyler Seguin," Jamie says, nodding. "Quite the entrance, eh?"

Jamie laughs, and Tyler feels a wave of relief run through him. 

"Yeah, I had a bad week. It started out good, though," Tyler replies, relaxing into the seat. 

“Your son is with my toughest men, Antoine Roussel, and Valeri Nichushkin,” Jamie says, waving a hand towards the precinct. “Don’t worry about this, we own the mayor. He’ll make sure everything works out just fine.”

Tyler nods, doesn’t say that this would have never happened if he were in Boston. Instead, he extends his hand to Jamie.

"I’m Tyler Seguin, your new underboss."

 

 

Tyler’s mother takes three days to come down from Toronto. He wants to be surprised, but he knew this was coming from the moment he told her that the Council had approved his move, that he was officially leaving Boston for Dallas. She was always a worrier, had been ever since his father had been killed by the boys in Colorado. 

“I don’t like this, Tyler. I don’t like Sebastian being so far away.” 

He smiles at his mother, shaking his head before taking another shot. She reaches to fidget with the Cartier necklace Tyler had bought her days before he had been forced out of Boston. As his mother toys with the pendant, the diamonds sparkle and the gold shines in the sunlight. Even without the direct sunshine, the luxurious pendant is blinding. Tyler smiles, glad that he bought it for his mother. 

The maid comes out with another round of shots for Tyler, and another lemonade for his mother. He nods his thanks, and she scurries off again. The bright Dallas sun shines bright, glistening off of the heated pool. Tyler leans back, thankful for the covered veranda. The wind picks up ever so slightly. The cool wind sends chills down his spine when it hits the sweat beading on the back of his neck.

“It’s business, ma,” Tyler shrugs. “I always come back to you, don’t I?”

She doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “You know what they say about Dallas.” 

Tyler can see rain clouds in the distant horizon. He pushes himself up, flinching at the strain on the scar across his right shoulder. The scar is angry, and a deep red with purple bruises blossoming around it. 

“Yeah, but I’m here now. Shit will change,” He reassures. “Sebastian’ll be safe.”

“You should’ve died that day,” His mother reminds, looking at the jagged line that stretches from the back of Tyler’s neck to the end of his shoulder cap. 

He shrugs again, locking his fingers together and cracking his knuckles. It’s only one scar in the collection of many. 

“I didn’t,” He replies coolly. “Dallas is a new start for me. For me and Sebs. If I’m not meant to be here, I’m sure someone will send me a sign.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, looking over the yard. The grass is freshly cut, and the trees in full bloom. The sky begins to cloud over. 

“You won’t have to worry anymore, mom.”

She shakes her head. “I’ll always worry, Tyler. You’re my only son.”

“Anyways,” Tyler continues. “It’s not like I could turn out any worse, right?”

“I did what I had to do, and you know that,” She defends. “You didn’t turn out bad now, did you?” 

Tyler laughs. 

The rain clouds are getting closer, and Tyler can see heat lightning race across the sky. It had been an unusually hot summer in Dallas, he supposes. He stands, picking up the silver serving plate their drinks had been brought out on. Looking over the expansive backyard, Tyler thinks of his sisters.  

He hopes they’re both well. 

“That’s the question, ain’t it ma?”

 

 

The Family welcomes Tyler with warm arms. 

It takes four days in a row of Tyler coming out of his bedroom in just his boxers and being met by Rouss’s strong French accent, or Val’s quiet Russian accent for him to realize that there would always be someone milling around his house. Sometimes it would be only Rouss, and others it would be a group of four or five of them. 

They were comfortable around him, comfortable enough in his house to make it a home. 

It wasn’t a security thing; it was never intended to be, either. The Family took Tyler in with open arms, open minds. No one was upset at the fact that Tyler was coming in from Boston to be the underboss, no one harboured ugly feelings towards him. No one cared that he was coming in to take the underboss position.

No one questions him about Sebastian, asks what happened to his mother. It’s common for Tyler to come out of his room to find Rouss cradling the infant, with a towel slung over his shoulder. 

(“He was getting fussy,” Rouss explains, voice quiet. “You needed the sleep.”

“You don’t have to take care of him,” Tyler replies. “I’m used to not sleeping.”

“Yeah, but I want to help,” Rouss replies, smiling down at Sebastian. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a kid in the Family.”)

His coming to Dallas almost felt destined, like he was meant to be here. It felt natural, almost as if they were one large misshapen family, which Tyler supposes in a way, they are. 

By the time the news of Tyler’s transfer had gotten to all the Families, a wave of fear goes through La Cosa Nostra. Almost everyone had heard a tale of how unpredictable, and brutal Tyler Seguin could be when he was in Boston and under Saint’s control. Coupled with the fact that everyone knew that Jamie Benn was menacing, and sadistic, the idea of them combined in the same family was terrifying; especially for the Families in the same region as Dallas.

No one knows why Tyler had requested the Council to leave Boston to go to Dallas, but the rumors quickly begin. 

Jamie had never made a habit of listening to the rumor mill, it normally was just dumb shit that people came up with to start wars between the Families; Jamie had no business thinking about a war right now with the current state of his men, but the threat loomed nonetheless. 

When he gets word from Kari that Tyler left Boston because of the Russians, Jamie calls Tyler into the back office of the mechanics shop; he’s known Kari long enough to know that Kari wouldn’t bring Jamie information unless it was credible. 

Tyler comes into Jamie’s office in a dirty grey tank top and black Adidas joggers. His hair is sticking up in every direction, oil smeared on his cheeks. He closes the door behind him, taking a seat in the leather chair across from him. Jamie hates the image that flashes into his head for a brief moment. He feels his cheeks flush momentarily. 

"What’s up Jams?" Tyler asks, wiping his hands on his sweats. His hands are covered in grease. 

"What were you doing?" Jamie asks, more of an ice breaker than anything. 

Tyler looks at the door behind him before replying. 

"Working on the ‘72 Camaro," Tyler replies. "Whatcha need, Jamie?"

After Tyler had been introduced to the bar, and the books that the Kari kept track of, he had insisted that Dallas brings back street racing, and Jamie had agreed. The money in it was undeniable and almost too easy to pass up on. The only condition Jamie had was that Tyler’s car stays at the mechanic shop they owned until Tyler got his house together. Tyler didn’t argue.

(Jamie ignored his brother’s looks when he set the stipulation. It wasn’t so that he could see Tyler more often. 

“Bosses don’t date their underbosses.”

“I never said anything about dating, Jamie,” Jordie replies. “But it’s cute how you try to lie like that.”  
“I’m not lying. It doesn’t happen.”

“So Sid and Malkin? Just friends that play with each other’s dicks?” 

“Get the fuck out of my office, Jordie.”)

"You don’t have any dirty laundry I need to know about, do you?" 

Tyler looks at Jamie. "What?" 

Jamie repeats himself, and Tyler looks at Jamie incredulously. Jamie watches as Tyler’s face shifts from neutral to dangerous. His eyes harden. 

"No, Jamie. I fucking don’t," Tyler hisses. "Even if I did, it’s not your business."

"If it affects the Family, it’s my business," Jamie replies easily. "So let me ask that again. Is there anything I need to know?"

Tyler stands abruptly. "No, and fuck you, Jamie." 

Tyler storms out of the office, and Jamie chases after him. 

Tyler may be new, or maybe just used to being able to mouth off at Saint in Boston, but Jamie wouldn’t deal with disrespect from anyone, regardless of rank within the Family. 

Jamie watches as Tyler slides pass Kari and into the garage. Jamie slams the house door behind him. 

"Tyler Seguin," Jamie yells. "Bring your ass back here." 

Tyler ignores Jamie, opens the door to his Audi r8. 

Jamie doesn’t have time to catch up to him before Tyler’s throwing it into drive, racing out of the parking lot, takes a left towards downtown and off to God knows where.

Tyler speeds off to the bar, his skin burning with rage, burning with the desire to turn back, to yell, scream at Jamie that it wasn’t his business, that Jamie was stepping foot in a minefield that he wasn’t prepared for.

Jamie was trying to pry into demons that Tyler had tried to leave in Boston.

Tyler half expects Jamie to follow him to the bar, but he’s not upset when Jamie doesn’t appear after him. Jordie looks at him confused, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t say anything to anyone, ignores Val’s attempt at bringing him into whatever the fuck he and Rouss are talking about, only smiles at Jason when he slides Tyler a tray of four shots.

“Russian shit,” Jason smiles. “For a bad day.”

If anyone wants to know why he’s back, no one says anything. The rage that sits in the palms of his hands burns; he fights the urge his has to take it out on someone, doesn’t want to end up like he did in Boston. 

It hits him halfway through the tray of shots: he fucking left the kid at home.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Tyler,” He murmurs to himself, quickly pulling out his phone. He taps on Kari’s name. 

“I have Sebastian,” Kari answers. “It’s okay. I’ll take him until you get home.”

Tyler sighs. “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. This being a father shit is hard.”

Tyler shakes his head. “I know, but. Still, Kari. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I promise. You handle what you need to handle.”

Kari hangs up, and Tyler leans onto the bar top. 

He listens as Rouss, and Jason yell to some of the guys crowding the counter that delivery truck was there, and that they needed to get off of their asses and come help unload the truck, that Jamie wasn’t paying them all to be lazy motherfuckers. Tyler watches as they groan, but most of his boys file into the back room of the bar. 

The room is exponentially quieter without the group; why wouldn’t it be? Who the fuck goes to a bar at, Tyler looks at the clock behind the bar, four in the afternoon?

“Seggy!” Someone exclaims, walking into his bar. 

Tyler turns towards the door, and without looking, he knows that voice is undoubtedly Doughty. He watches as a group of five of the Los Angeles boys come into his goddamn bar, watches them act like they own the city; Tyler knows that this isn’t a good sign, knows that Doughty has gained some courage somewhere since Tyler’s left Boston because he would have never done this to him had Tyler still been in Boston. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Tyler hisses, standing as Doughty approaches him. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Tyler can’t see Jason, and he swears; Jason must’ve gone outside with the others to deal with the delivery truck. 

Doughty smiles, looks around the bar. “I just came to visit, that’s all.” 

Tyler nods, unconvinced, as he runs the odds of a fight between him and the five; he doesn’t know how skilled most of them are, and as much as he would love to assume that they’re unskilled, he’s forced to remember that Saint had sent McQuaid and Rask to Los Angeles to train their men in exchange for guns, that more likely than not, they were stronger than they looked. 

“Unannounced?” Tyler replies easily. “This isn’t proper, you know.”

“You’ve always been a supporter of tradition,” Doughty observes. “I’m not sure why.”

“Because it’s how this shit is supposed to be done,” Tyler hisses. “How would Kopitar feel if I were to come to Los Angeles unannounced?”

“He would be upset,” Doughty replies, coming to sit next to Tyler. 

“I should fucking kill you,” Tyler hisses.  

Doughty shakes his head. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Tyler stands, and Doughty follows. “Are you sure about that?” 

Tyler stills as Doughty draws a gun, puts it into Tyler’s stomach. The rage Tyler had been holding back boils to the surface, bursting when Tyler knocks the gun out of Doughty’s hand, twisting his arm until he hears one, then two cracks.

“Get the fuck out of my city,” Tyler growls, voice bordering on dangerous. 

Doughty holds a hand up, stops the other men from charging Tyler. He has a saccharine smile as he looks up at Tyler through his eyelashes. 

“You don’t remember do you?” Doughty taunts. “Oh, my Tyler.”

Tyler doesn’t have time to ask Doughty what the fuck he’s talking about before Doughty’s slamming Tyler into the bar top, dragging him across the counter before grabbing Tyler at the nape of his neck, holding his down to the bar top. Tyler can hear the glasses breaking as they’re violently pushed onto the floor by his head under Doughty’s hand. 

“Candace really is beautiful,” Doughty murmurs. “Would be a shame if something were to happen, yes?”

Tyler growls, loud enough to alert Val in the back. When Val peaks his head out of the door leading to the back, it’s almost instantaneous as he pulls his gun out, starts shooting at the boys who Doughty brought with him. Doughty drags Tyler back towards the front door; when Tyler starts to fight back, Doughty slams Tyler’s body into the thin picture glass window. 

Tyler’s going to fucking kill Jamie for having such a thin picture glass window installed.

Tyler’s blinking the black away when he comes to realize that he’s laying on the pavement in front of the bar. It takes him another moment to realize that he needs to get up, that he needs to go the fuck home before he bleeds out on the street. He struggles to stand, waves off the few people who stopped to help him as he limps towards the parking lot to the left of the building. He fishes his keys out of his pocket, unlocks his car.

He fucking knew that he shouldn’t have come to Dallas.

Tyler drives back home with blood sticking in his hair, and on his face. His hands are bruised and blooded; his hands ache as he holds onto the steering wheel. He’s bleeding all over the white interior of his car, but he can’t complain or bring himself to care; he focuses on the road, on getting home before he bleeds to death. He throws his car into park outside of his garage, reaches over to the passenger side visor, and hits the garage opener before he staggers into the house. He’s thankful that one of the garages leads into his master bedroom. 

Maybe this way, he wouldn’t bleed out on his driveway. 

He really fucking hated Los Angeles; he had a problem with them since he was in Boston and they had tried to kill Saint. To be fair, he knows that he still has a bone to pick with Doughty over personal business too; made men were not supposed to sleep with the women of other made men’s families. He could never control Candace, would never tell his sister who she could sleep with, but Doughty should have known better. 

In hindsight, he shouldn’t be surprised that they ran up the bar, but at the same time, not many Families had the courage since it commonly caused wars between families that caused too much loss for the profit to be worth it. He tries to hold onto furniture as he makes his way through his bedroom. He leaves a bloody handprint on his dresser as he makes his way towards the bathroom.

Hopefully Jamie’s not the one to find his body. 

He pulls himself into the too white master bathroom, latches onto the bathroom counter top. His entire right side throbs now, an insatiable pain begging to be noticed. He screams as he loses his grip on the countertop, and falls onto the white marble floor; Tyler screams as the cold begins to seep to his bones.

Tyler doesn’t know how much time passes until Jason’s kneeling over him, wiping off his forehead with a washcloth.

"You know how fucking dumb you are?" Jason laughs. "Pretty fucking dumb."

Tyler laughs weakly, tries to focus on Jason. The ceiling is white, glowing almost. Tyler’s not sure if he’s seeing his ceiling, or if Jesus is calling him home. 

Either way, he doesn’t really care at this point. 

He just wants the pain to stop.

"Jordie and Jen are on their way," Jason says, putting pressure on the cuts down Tyler’s side. 

"Jamie?" Tyler asks, voice soft. 

"Kari called him. He’s on his way," Jason reports. “You know how to make an entrance, yeah? Are they always this dramatic?”

Tyler nods. 

"Hey, c’mon kid. You gotta talk to me."

Tyler doesn’t have the energy to speak, so he doesn’t. Jason keeps a hand steady on Tyler’s wrist, making sure that his pulse stays stable. He keeps talking to Tyler, tries to keep Tyler focused on his voice as they wait. The blood continues to seep out of Tyler’s side, and Jason knows from the past that Tyler can’t afford to lose too much more blood before they have to send him to the hospital to save his life. 

Jason starts yelling when he hears the front door open. As he looks down, he feels dread crawling into his chest, and making a home right behind his rib cage. Tyler’s eyes are barely open, his breathing erratic and unsteady at best. Jason can hear multiple sets of steps and voices coming towards the bedroom. Jenny’s the first one in the bathroom, Jordie and Jamie in tow. 

"What the fuck  _ happened _ ?" Jamie hisses, unable to look away from the deep red on the white marble tile. 

The stark contrast twists up Jamie’s stomach; it makes Jamie want to throw up, but he knows that he can’t, knows that he needs to make sure that his underboss is going to be okay and alive before he worries about himself. 

Jenny’s nudging Jason away from Tyler. She doesn’t waste time, ripping open the grey shirt Tyler had been wearing. There’s a few smaller cuts down his right side, but it becomes obvious that there’s a medium sized piece of glass still lodged in his side, and that’s one that’s going to kill him. 

"Tyler went through the front window at the bar," Jason sums up. "Val’s on his way to the hospital."

"What the fuck do you mean?" Jamie hisses. "What the _ fuck _ ?"

"Back door was propped open for liquor deliveries. Los Angeles caught us off guard. Came in the front," Jordie explains. "Doughty had Tyler on the bar top when Val finally came and fired shots. Val got hit by one of Doughty’s men, and then Doughty put Ty through the front window. Tyler was through the front window before Jason got upstairs. Val’s on route to the hospital. Tyler drove himself here before anyone could get him to the hospital."

Jamie nods, watches as his sister starts to address the smaller of the cuts down Tyler’s side. The glass piece inside on Tyler is loose, and Jamie watches his sister debate before she orders Jason to find a towel, and the first aid kit out of her car. Jason nods, runs out of the too white bathroom, in the too white house. 

Tyler’s eyes meets Jamie’s for a fleeting moment, before he looks away. Jamie wants to command all of Tyler’s attention, wants to be in charge of his care, wants to ensure that Tyler would be okay. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Jenny, because he did; he didn’t like not having control of the situation. 

Jason drops Jenny’s bag next to her, complete with two towels from Tyler’s linen closet. He drops down next to Tyler. Jenny offers him a set of gloves. Jason takes them, snaps them on as Jenny takes out thread and needle. She takes out a vial and syringe next. 

"Did you take that from the hospital?" Jamie asks, watching as Jenny rubs a cotton ball soaked with alcohol on the inside of Tyler’s elbow. 

"Jamie, it’s not the time," She replies before she inserts the needle into the biggest vein she can find, and gives Tyler a dose of morphine. 

Jamie looks down at her incredulously. "You could lose your goddam license!" 

"This is more important," Jenny hisses. "Let me worry about my shit. You worry about yours."

Jamie shakes his head, meets Tyler’s eyes. Tyler’s eyes are unfocused as he looks around his bathroom, the pain seeping away. Before he can close his eyes, Jenny’s face is directly over his. 

"Jason’s going to pull that piece of glass out. I need you to relax. I don’t think it’s lodged too deep, so I don’t believe that you have major internal damage, okay? Just relax, Ty," Jenny coaches.

Tyler nods, lets the tension leave his thighs. The coldness is still biting at his bones, although his chest and head feel warm. 

Jenny takes his hand, lets him squeeze her hand as Jason takes out the shard of glass in one, swift movement. The glass clinks off of the marble floor, and Jason’s pressing a towel onto the empty cut before Tyler can scream. His entire side throbs; Tyler swears it’s in line with his heartbeat. 

"You’re doing great, Ty. Okay? We’re going to put pressure on it for about five minutes, then clean that out, and close you up. Then you can go to bed, okay? Jason’s going to stay here with you tonight," Jenny rambles. "He’s educated, and can help you."

Tyler nods again. 

Jenny instructs Jason through cleaning up Tyler’s side. Jamie had always forgotten that Jason had done well over half of the paramedic program at South Texas; it made Jason valuable to them, Jamie notes. Under Jason’s steady hands, and Jenny’s precise instruction, it doesn’t take long for Tyler to be bandaged up and in his too big bed, in his too big house.

“Where’s Sebastian?” Tyler murmurs, looking towards Jamie. 

“He’s with Kari. I think Kari’s keeping him tonight.”

Tyler shakes his head. “No. No the fuck he is not. I want Sebastian here.”

“Tyler, I don’t think having a young child here will help you rest,” Jenny replies. 

“I want him here. Call Kari,” Tyler hisses. “I’m not doing anything until he’s here.”

Jamie nods, taking a step away to call Kari. 

Kari’s walking into Tyler’s bedroom less than fifteen minutes later, Sebastian hanging onto his side. He has a diaper bag on his other shoulder. 

“A gift,” Kari says, motioning to the bag. “I want to let you know that Sebastian is welcome over anytime.”

Tyler opens up his arms, and Kari hesitantly hands the baby over to Tyler. Tyler takes Sebastian, holds him against his less injured side. 

“Are you sure you want him here tonight, Tyler?” Kari asks. “I’m sure I can handle him for one night.”

“He’s alright here,” Tyler replies. “Aren’t you?”  
Sebastian smiles, giggling a little bit. 

Jamie doesn’t stay long after Tyler’s safe in bed with Sebastian. 

Once he knows that Tyler’s going to live, the white hot rage builds in his chest, and he knows that he has to leave before he explodes. He wants to go to Los Angeles, wants to maim anyone and everyone that has laid an unkind hand on Tyler. 

Logically, Jamie knows that Tyler could handle himself, that Tyler didn’t need extra protection. That knowledge doesn’t stop Jamie from being undyingly worried, doesn’t stop Jamie from being irate that Tyler would put himself in that position. Jamie hops into his sleek BMW x5, ruminates where he wants to go. He knows that he can’t drive to Los Angeles, knows that he can’t afford to start a war with Los Angeles about this.

Jamie settles on driving his too big car back to his too big house. He wonders why everyone in a Family has a too big house, wonders if it makes them feels better about the lonely life that they live. He parks in his garage, goes directly into his kitchen, and pulls out the good whiskey from the back of the cabinet next to the refrigerator. He pulls out a glass next, pours himself of a whiskey on the rocks, and promptly downs it. 

He’s too sober to be thinking of lonely things. 

  
  
  



	2. October.

Tyler heals remarkably quickly. 

He’s back milling around the bar within days, back directing the caporegimes, and the soldiers within a week. If Tyler’s in any pain, he doesn’t show it, and Jamie wonders if he’s used to masking his pain from his time with the Russians.

Tyler starts bringing in shipments from Pittsburgh; prescription drugs from Sidney, someone that Tyler trusted. It’s not long before Tyler has Valeri’s crew selling prescription pills  in downtown Dallas. Jamie had never necessarily liked the drug business, didn’t like putting them in his city, but the money was unignorable, and too easy to cash in on, especially with Tyler at the helm of it all. 

It’s a common sight to see Tyler milling around the bar with Sebastian strapped to his chest in a baby carrier. Tyler brings in a young kid, J amie Oleksiak, to be Sebastian’s protector when Tyler had to go out on jobs. The first time Jamie had seen the kid, it was easy to figure out why Tyler picked him specifically: Oleksiak was built like a train, thick muscle pushing at the seams of his button up shirt. 

"Tell me about this kid," Jamie says, eyeing Oleksiak as he talks to Rouss. "How’d he get tangled up in the Family?"

Tyler smiles, resting his hand underneath Sebastian’s bottom. "He’s a good kid from Toronto. He’s got younger siblings, some experience with children."

"You trust him with your son?"

Tyler’s silent for a moment. "Until he gives me a reason not to."

Jamie nods, looking away from Tyler. 

Tyler seemed to be thriving under Jamie’s command style; Jamie was much less hands on that Saint had been in Boston. It allowed Tyler to make the day to day decisions as he needed in order to keep the Family running as a well oiled machine. 

 

Jamie’s milling around Tyler’s house with Jason, Val, Oleksiak and Jordie when Tyler comes in the front door. Jamie had mentioned to Tyler that they should hold a meeting with the caporegimes to make sure that everyone was on the same page. 

Tyler looks at the group of four with confusion before realization snaps across his face. His eyes are adorned with dark circles, his hair sticks up in every direction. He has a grey Nike backpack; the outline of a gun in one of the sidepockets is undeniable. Jamie’s eyebrows raise; Tyler had told Jamie that he was going out of town on Wednesday, but he didn’t say that it was business related. Before Jamie can speak, Tyler sighs, comes further into his house. He drops the backpack at the end of the black microfiber couch, lets the tension leave his shoulders before he looks towards Oleksiak. 

"Sebastian?"

"He’s laying down for his nap," Oleksiak replies. "Marchand, and Jesse called earlier."

Jamie’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as he looks over at Tyler. 

"What’d Blackie want?"

"Just wanted to check in on Sebastian," He replies. 

Tyler nods as he heads towards the kitchen. 

"I promise I didn’t forget," Tyler says, as he rummages through his cabinets. "I had to take care of a problem."

"It’s fine," Jamie assures. "Family?"

Tyler nods as he pulls out a glass. "Kind of. Are you guys thirsty? I have just about anything."

Tyler mills around the kitchen as he pours he and Jamie whiskey on the rocks, and pulls three beers out of the fridge for the other three. He smiles as he delivers the drinks before he settles into the grey armchair next to the couch. Jamie’s perched across from him in an identical chair. Tyler reaches for his backpack, pulls out the gun, a glock 17, and a messy stack of papers and sets them on the glass top table. He sets them on the table as Jamie begins to speak. 

"We need to figure this shit the fuck out," Jamie starts. "We’re losing influence."

"Not in Dallas," Jason replies, looking at the large mosaic painting of a rose garden. The hues of reds, greens, and blues makes it pop out against the white. "St. Louis, Colorado and Phoenix are getting too comfortable, if you ask me."

Val takes a long drink before speaking. "I’d agree with that. When’s the Apalachin meeting this year?"

"It’s too late in the year to address it there," Tyler replies. "We need to figure it out now, before it goes to another war that we can’t afford." 

The group weighs what Tyler says. 

"We need to negotiate," Jordie finally says. "There’s no other way. We’re being pushed around."

"Los Angeles coming in the way they did needs to be addressed," Val adds. "Jesus, me and you got fucked up for no reason." He finishes, pointing at Tyler.

Tyler shakes his head. "Handled it."

"What?" Jamie hisses; Tyler knew that he had to run any retribution past Jamie for approval. 

"They don’t have a bar anymore," Tyler replies. "I wanted Cadance out of Los Angeles, and well."

“And well what?”

"There was a small fire," Tyler shrugs. "Nothing no one can prove I did." 

"That handles Los Angeles, then," Jordie laughs. 

Jamie wants to admonish his brother for encouraging this, wants to snap that this could be the start of a war with Los Angeles, but he can’t make himself do it. He understands where Tyler’s coming from, understands the dynamic of his Family all too well. It wasn’t okay, but it wasn’t going to kill them all, and that was what mattered. 

"We still need to regain influence, and shipping rights," Jason says, voice hard. "And what the fuck is with Boston raising their prices?" 

"I was wondering the same thing, to be honest," Val says, his Russian accent seeping into his words. "Why now?" 

Jamie takes the moment to speak. "Saint said that they did it across the board, but when I called Kesler out of Vancouver and asked, he said that they didn’t get a price raise. I haven’t had the time to call Saint back." 

"Why don’t you?" Jordie asks, turning towards Tyler. "You know those guys."

"That’s not," Tyler starts before Jamie speaks over him. 

"That’s a good idea," Jamie says.

Tyler can’t help the white hot rage that rolls through his chest for a split moment. He knows that Jamie doesn’t know his history with Boston, knows that Jamie is asking out of genuine curiosity, not out of nastiness. 

So he agrees. 

"What’s Sidney costing us?" Jamie asks. "Toews called and told me that he can go lower than Sidney can on the pills."

Tyler shakes his head. "I promise you, he can’t and he won’t. Sidney’s cutting us a great deal."

"What do you mean?" Jason asks. 

"I mean Sid’s sending us fifty thousand dollars worth for half," Tyler replies. "I promise you. No one can beat that."

"Why so low?" Val asks. "What’s in it for him?"

"He’s an old friend," Tyler replies easily. "He and I, we have an understanding."

Jamie doesn’t miss the connotation. 

“Anyways,” Tyler says. “What’s up with this fucker–– Parros? I keep hearing some fuckin’ name like that around the bar.”

“He’s the lead detective looking into us,” Jamie shrugs. “He might try to pull some shit, just don’t say anything to him.”

“Let me fuck with him,” Tyler smiles. “Minor shit. Should be fun.”

“Whatever you want to do,” Jamie replies. “Just don’t get arrested, yeah?”

One by one, the caporegimes leave. They have families at home, they have things to do in the morning. Jamie’s the last one to leave, lingering at the door. 

“Listen,” He begins. “I’m not mad about Los Angeles. But, I need you to remember that you have a kid. He needs you to come home every night.”

“There’s not a moment of the day that I don’t remember that,” Tyler replies. “I’ll always come home to him. No matter what.”

Jamie nods, putting his hand on the door knob. “Remember that, yeah?”

Tyler nods, watching as Jamie pulls the door shut behind him. Once the door clicks shut, Tyler turns around, sighing. 

Tyler and Oleksiak are left alone. Tyler can’t help but feel a sense of safety roll over him that he hadn’t experienced in years. Tyler walks up the stairs, grabbing Sebastian from his crib. 

“Hey, don’t start with that grouchy shit,” Tyler hums. “You got an extra long nap today.”

Sebastian grumbles, but doesn’t cry; it’s a small victory. 

Tyler checks his diaper before taking him downstairs, holding Sebastian up against his right side. It lasts until Sebastian starts to wiggle, kicks Tyler just right in one of his still healing cuts, and Tyler’s forced to hand him off to Oleksiak. 

“Jesus,” Tyler wheezes. “Asshole.”

“He’s a kicker,” Oleksiak remarks, taking Sebastian into his arms. “What should I feed him?”

“I’ll cut up some fucking,” Tyler pauses, opening his refrigerator. “Uh. Cucumbers, it looks like. Jesus, I need to go to the store.”

Jamie shakes his head. “I was planning on doing it tomorrow.”

Tyler shakes his head as he pulls out a cutting board. “I pay you to make sure the kid stays where he’s supposed to be. You don’t have to take care of my house too.”

Oleksiak shrugs. “I don’t mind. I’d rather be here than down at the mechanic shop.”

“I can make it so that this is your job,” Tyler replies, pulling a knife out of the knife block. “Listen, I have five bedrooms. It’s really nothing for you to move in here.”

Oleksiak doesn’t respond, lifting up Sebastian above his head, and bringing him down again. Tyler cuts the cucumber into small cubes, before putting them into a small plastic tupperware bowl.

“Can I ask you a question?” Oleksiak murmurs as he puts Sebastian into his high chair. 

Tyler puts the bowl in front of Sebastian with a small cup of water. 

“Sure.”

“What happened to his mom?”

Tyler pauses, putting his hands on the counter top. “Camille died while giving birth.”

Oleksiak nods. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“What did Marchy want earlier?”

“Uh,” He starts. “I think it was something about business? I don’t remember to be honest.”

“If it’s important, he’ll call again,” Tyler dismisses. 

Tyler smiles as he watches Sebastian take little bites of cucumber, and puts them in his mouth. 

“You know Sebastian looks nothing like you, right?”

Tyler pauses again, unsure of what to say. He lets a moment pass, and then another before he answers. 

“I know,” Tyler begins. “He looks like Camille.”

Oleksiak nods. “How long have you been in the mafia?”

“Too many years,” Tyler replies, voice tight. “What about you?”

“Not long. Jordie brought me in as an associate.”

“Well, I’m bringing you on full time,” Tyler replies. “You can move in here if you want. I want someone here who will take care of Sebby when I can’t, someone who will protect him.”

“I’m more than willing to do that for you,” He replies. “Sebby is easy. He’s not super fussy.”

Sebastian begins to cry, and Tyler’s quick to pick up the child, bouncing him gently.

“Someone needs a diaper change, don’t they?” Tyler mutters, smelling the revolting smell from Sebastian’s diaper.  

“Let me take him,” Oleksiak says. “You call Jesse back, yeah?”

Tyler nods his thanks at Oleksiak, giving Sebastian away. He pulls his cell phone out of his front pocket, unlocks it, and calls Jesse. It rings four times before Jesse answers.

“Well, well, well,” Jesse answers. “How’s my favorite underboss?”

“Good,” He replies. “How’s Toronto?”

“Clusterfuck, as always.”

Tyler laughs. “And you’re surprised?”

“Not anymore,” He replies. “How’s Sebby?”

“He’s good. I found a kid down here that looks after him when I’m gone.”

“You trust him with Sebastian?”

Tyler sucks on his teeth. “He hasn’t given me a reason not to. He’s just like Brownie, Jesse. Dorky and shit.”

“Good.”

“When are you going to come visit?” Tyler asks, wandering around his kitchen. 

“Whenever you tell me to come down.”

Tyler laughs. “Just come down you dick. Bring Freddy with you.”

“Fantastic three reunion?” Jesse chuckles. “You think Dallas could handle that?”

Tyler looks up to see Jamie coming back down the stairs without Sebastian. 

“Yeah. I think the city could. Hey, I got to let you go,” Tyler says. “I’ll call you in a couple days, yeah?”

Jesse agrees, and Tyler hangs up. 

“He started to doze off while I was changing him,” Oleksiak explains. “So I put him down for the night. I figured it was about time, anyways.”

Tyler nods, putting his phone down on the island. His shoulders are tight, but he’s unsure as to why. His scar aches and twitches, slowly driving him crazy with the infrequent muscle spasms. Tyler turns around, opening the cabinet next to his stove hood. Orange bottles litter the bottom shelf, labelless, and filled to the brim with pills of all different shapes, and sizes. 

“What are those?” 

“Percocet, Norco, morphine,” Tyler replies, pulling out a bottle filled with white, diamond shaped pills. “Every and any pain pill made.”

“Why?”

Tyler shrugs. “Percocet is a wonderful thing, my friend.”

If Oleksiak disagrees, he doesn’t voice it. Tyler opens the pill bottle, shaking a couple into his hand. He grabs a bottle of water out of his refrigerator. He takes a small sip of water before swallowing the pills.

Tyler walks over to the French doors the lead out to his backyard, looks up towards the sky. The moon sits high in the sky, full in all of its glory. Tyler smiles, feels something settle in his chest. 

He turns around, looks at Oleksiak. 

“I’ll be back,” Tyler states. “I just need to go pay someone a quick visit, yeah?”

 

 

When Bill is brought into what the officers dubbed the ‘situation room’, he’s taken aback by the photos taped onto the walls, organized into pyramids. He can recognize some of the guys at the top without question: Sidney Crosby, Alex Ovechkin, and Shea Weber stick out the most at first. The walls are adorned with maps, colored push pins in different cities, red string wrapped around the push pins creating connections.

The table is covered with files on files, pictures of the men in the Mafia. Bill can’t help but to push around some of the pictures, seeing pictures of Crosby with Giroux, Landeskog with Doan; pictures that don’t make any sense.

The man standing over the long, well worn table looks up, smiles at Bill before extending his hand. 

“Gary Bettman, FBI.”

Bill nods, takes his hand. “Bill Daly, CIA.”

“Hope you don’t mind what I did to the place. Shit’s a little confusing. Especially right now,” Gary mutters, looking around at the various pictures, and maps adorning the walls. “Have you been briefed?”

Bill shakes his head. “Craig told me you would catch me up to speed.”

“Of course he did. Lazy bastard,” He sighs. “You up to date with Tyler Seguin?”

Bill shakes his head. 

“Well, he’s our latest problem,” He replies, pointing to Tyler’s mugshot from when he first arrived in Dallas. “Fucker arrived in Dallas a couple days ago. We got this mugshot about a week ago; Dallas PD got him on disorderly conduct. He’s lighting up our radar like a goddamn Christmas tree.”

“How long has he been here?” He asks.

“September.”

Bill’s eyebrow raises. “And he’s lit up the radar like a fuckin’ Christmas tree?”

When Gary nods, Bill picks up a photo, shows it to Bettman and asks, “What’s the deal with Seguin?”

“That’s the million dollar question,” Bettman says. “All we know about him, okay, really, we know jack shit. We can’t ever get any surveillance of Seguin alone, can’t get anyone in close enough around him to get any information either.”

“Why the move? Why Boston to Dallas?”

Bettman looks up, shrugs, “We recently intercepted a phone call between Crosby and Mario. Sidney mentioned something about a council vote. We can’t confirm it right now, but if I was a betting man, I would say that the council voted.”

“Seriously?” Bill asks. 

“Yeah,” Bettman says. “We had thought that maybe Bergeron killed him at first, when he hadn’t been spotted in a few weeks in Boston. But then he pops up in Dallas when we were notified of his arrest. We never really know what’s happened to them unless we bring someone in and they’re willing to tell us. But we can’t find people willing to talk with us often.”

“A picture on his desk catches his eye and he holds it up. “Who’s the pretty boy?”

“Ah, he’s a new associate. Jamie Oleksiak,” Bettman says, “We can’t figure out what his role is. He’s always with Seguin, but he’s never been spotted at any of the businesses.”

“Bodyguard maybe?” Bill guesses. 

“I don’t buy that,” Bettman replies, shuffling around on the table. “Here. Tyler has a kid.”

Bill takes the pictures looking at it closely. “Since when?”

“At least nine months,” He replies. “We don’t know who the mother is, but we’re assuming she’s dead.”

“What else is he up to?” Bill asks, setting the photo down. “There has to be more than what you have here.”

“Overdoses have spiked,” Bettman states. “From the data we get from the hospitals, it looks like Tyler brought the drug trade with him. If I had to guess, he’s getting his shit from Pittsburgh, or Detroit. We haven’t been able to pull anyone in to confirm.”

“Jesus, this kid is fucking crazy.”

Gary shrugs. “The psychs upstairs tell me that it’s not crazy. From what they’ve seen they say that he demonstrates sociopathic traits.”

“That’s a hell of an evaluation.”

Gary shrugs again. “They won’t be accurate until we can haul him in.”

“Who is the lead detective on this?”

“Detective  George Parros ,” Bettman says. “He worked in Montreal years ago. He moved to Dallas two years ago.”

“Does Tyler know?”

“He does,” Bettman says with a nod. 

“How do we know?”

“He’s been fucking with George,” Bettman replies. “Hell, just last night Tyler taped a single body outline in  Parros’s  driveway and left three dead rats in his mailbox.”

“He knows where  George lives?” 

“Kari Lehtonen knows how to find all of that shit,” He dismisses. “Listen, no one here is worried. If he was going to kill him, Tyler would have by now. He’s just cocky.” 

Bill nods. 

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Bettman asks. “You ready to take this on?”

“Yeah. I’m ready,” He states.

“He’ll slip up, eventually,” Bettman says. “We just have to wait. Seguin is just one piece of this puzzle.”

“Yeah,” Bill says, finding he was okay with waiting. “Eventually.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thank you for reading this
> 
> feedback welcomed! (opinions, hopes for the future, anything really! i love hearing from you guys!)


	3. January.

Tyler never hated driving more than whenever he was driving in New York. The only saving grace, Tyler mused, was the fact that Apalachin wasn’t close to New York City; if anything the worst he had to deal with was Pennsylvania drivers driving around the city.

Tyler can feel the sweat beading at the back of his neck the closer they get to Apalachin. Jamie had made him bring Jason, and Valeri; it hadn’t made any sense, especially since Kari was the consigliere, and really should be advising Tyler through these meetings. Tyler brings Oleksiak and Sebastian along; he refused to leave Sebastian in Dallas alone, especially when these meetings would provide Tyler a chance to see Brad again.

“Remind me, why do you hate this?” Jason asks from the passenger seat of the rented Audi Tyler had arranged for before they flew into Wilkes Barre Scranton International.

“If I wanted to see these people, I would go visit them,” Tyler replies vaguely. “There’s too much history at these meetings, anyways.”

“Who do we need to watch?” Val asks, peeking his head between the two front seats.

Tyler’s silent as he turns into Gretzky’s driveway. He observes the trees that line the long driveway before responding. He can hear Sebastian starting to get fussy in the back seat. Oleksiak starts murmuring in a bid to stop Sebastian from starting a tantrum.

“Keep Tarasenko the fuck away from me,” Tyler murmurs, voice tight. “Or don’t. Who knows, this could be the year I just kill him.”

“Jamie said no murders,” Jason reminds.

Tyler laughs.

As if Tyler cared what Jamie wanted.

He doesn’t respond, instead focuses on calming his runaway heart beat. Tyler follows the cars in front of him, pulling into what would be the grass, if it weren’t covered in inches of snow, in front of Gretzky’s house. He throws the car into park, takes a deep breath. Snow falls gently from the sky. He fiddles with his deep blue tie, tries to prolong going into the house. He hadn’t seen Sidney’s car, or Patrice’s. He doesn’t like not having any allies here, doesn’t like feeling exposed like he does.

“We have to go, Ty. Before we’re late,” Jason finally says as he opens his door. Val follows suit, which in turn forces Tyler’s hand to pull the lever, and step out of the car. He opens the backseat, unbuckling Sebastian from his car seat, settling him on his left side. He tugs down the blue beanie on Sebastian’s head so that it covers his ears.

“I know,” Tyler mutters when Sebastian begins to fuss. “I know. Hats are dumb, and I’m mean for making you wear one. I know, I’m so horrible.”

Tyler buttons the bottom button on his suit jacket with his free hand, fiddles with his Saint Dominic pendant before he says ‘fuck it’, and makes his way towards the front door. He keeps his shoulders squared, head held up high as he makes his way into Gretzky’s house.

“Segs!” Jagr exclaims, hugging Tyler as soon as Tyler passes over the threshold. “How are you?”

Tyler smiles, genuine, replies, “I’m doing good. Geno and Patrice here?”

Jagr nods. “I saw them earlier. How’s this little one?”

“He’s good. I brought on a kid to protect him,” Tyler replies. “Jamie Oleksiak. He’s fucking huge.”

Jagr nods. “Good. I’m glad you brought him.”

Tyler nods, eyes darting around the room. He doesn’t see anyone that he trusts, doesn’t see where Jason and Val disappeared to; it’s a small blessing that he can feel Oleksiak hovering behind him, ready to protect Sebastian should something arise. Jagr sees Tyler’s anxiety bubbling to the front of his chest, and lays a gentle hand on Tyler’s shoulder.

“You’re going to be okay,” He reassures. “Think, me and Modano will protect you.”

“I’m not yours to protect anymore,” Tyler replies. “Remember?”

Jagr doesn’t say anything, and Tyler thinks that he doesn’t have to. They have too much history between them, too many reasons for Jagr to protect Tyler.

“How’s Dallas been?”

Tyler laughs. “A fucking clusterfuck. You hear that Doughty put me through a goddamn window?”

“I also heard that one of his businesses was burned down,” He comments, looking over at Tyler. “Such a shame.”

Tyler shrugs. As if on cue, Doughty and Kopitar walk pass. Doughty cuts Tyler a glare, but doesn’t say a word. Jagr laughs from beside him.

“Always starting shit,” He laughs, looking at Tyler. “You’re going to have to stop that. Doesn’t make many friends.”

“I’m not here to make friends, you know that,” Tyler snaps, adjusting Sebastian on his hip. “I wanted Toronto. I haven’t forgotten how you voted.”

“You’ll understand, one day. Dallas is a better fit, Ty.”

Tyler’s being pulled away by Valeri before he has a chance to respond. Val pulls him into what looks to be an office, pushes the door shut. Tyler turns to ask why the fuck Val thought he could interrupt his and Jagr’s conversation when he comes face to face with Sidney, and Evgeni.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tyler asks, looking at Sidney. “You know that Giroux has a contract out on you, right?”

Sidney shrugs. “I’m not that worried. How are you?”

Tyler knows that Sidney wants the truth by the tone in his voice, and he can’t give it to him, not with Val in the room. Tyler considers responding in Russian, but he remembers that Val was fluent as well. Tyler instead focuses on the deep mahogany desk that Sidney’s leaning against, waits for Sidney to send them out.

“Val, why don’t you and Geno go catch up? It’s been a long time, yeah?” Sidney suggests.

Geno nods, slips into Russian as he and Val exit the office. Geno sends Sidney a pointed look before shutting the door behind him.

“How are you, Ty?” Sidney asks again, his voice gentle.

“Same shit. How’re you?” Tyler replies, taking Sebastian’s hat off so that he will stop trying to rip it away.

“I need a favor.”

Oleksiak opens the door, coming in enough to stand in front of it with his arms crossed. Sidney eyes the man questioningly, but Tyler nods.

“He’s good,” Tyler assures.

Sidney smiles. “Mario doesn’t want to let me expand my arms trade to Europe. I need you to convince Jaromir that it’s a good idea.”

“Europe?”

“There’s a lot of interest. Ireland, and Russia mostly. It’s a lot of money, and I don’t want to miss my chance to cash in. Mario thinks it’s too big of a risk. Jaromir likes you the most out of all of us. Mario will cave in Jaromir agrees. If you help me push this through, I’ll owe you.”

Tyler nods, steps forward with his free hand extended. “For you, Sidney, anything.”

They shake hands, and within a few seconds, the door swings open, hitting Oleksiak in the back. Geno and Val peek their heads in.

“Meetings are starting in five,” Val announces.

He, and Sid share a brief look before following their respective Family members. Tyler looks up, sees the tables pushed together to form a square, name placards on the seats. He spots Jason sitting next to Ovechkin, with Patrice on the other side. Tyler smiles wider when he spots Jaromir. He turns, handing Sebastian off to Oleksiak before he speaks to Jaromir.

“I need to talk to you,” Tyler says, motioning to the study.

Jagr nods, follows Tyler into the large, spacious study. Books are piled high upon all of the small side tables, intricate rugs cover the dark floor. Tyler has a clear view of the backyard, covered in snow and paw prints. Jagr sits in one of the armchairs before looking at Tyler.

“What’s up?” He asks, folding his hands in his lap.

“I need you to back me and Sidney,” Tyler begins. “Sidney wants to expand.”

The older man begins to toy with his maroon tie, a nervous tic that Tyler didn’t miss.

“To where?”

“Europe.”

“You’re fucking psychotic,” He replies, shaking his head. “Why do you back it?”

Tyler crosses his arms, shrugs. “If Sid thinks he can do it, I’ll support him.”

He pulls on the collar of his black button up shirt, shakes his head. “Tyler, Europe? That’s so much risk.”

“Sidney can handle it,” Tyler reassures. “Listen, I need you to back it. If you back us, Mario will agree.”

“Mario’s not on board?”

Tyler shakes his head. “Thinks like you. Thinks it’s too much risk. He underestimates Sidney.”

“And you don’t?” Jagr replies, exasperated. “Do you not remember when Sidney first got into the drug business?”

Tyler winces; he does remember. He remembers how Sidney almost single handedly brought down the entire organization; how Sidney had lit up the DEA’s radar so bright that the DEA put a permanent office in downtown Pittsburgh.

“This is different. He’s older now.”

Jagr shakes his head, sighs. “You back him?”

Tyler nods. “I do. I trust him not to fuck this up.”

Jagr stands, slides his hands into his pant pockets. “If you back him, I will.”

Tyler smiles, extends his hand. “Thank you. It means a lot to us.”

Jagr takes his hand, shakes it. “If this blows up in your face, there’s going to be hell to pay from Gretzky, and Mario.”

“I’m not worried,” Tyler shrugs. “What’s the worst that they’ll do? Kill me?”

“Can you act like a normal human that’s afraid to be killed?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be me. You know that.”

Jagr nods, motions back out into the main area. Tyler takes the hint, steps back out. He smiles as he walks towards his seat, nods to Sidney when Sidney meets his eyes. Tyler watches as Alex stands, opening his arms to embrace Tyler in a hug.

“ _Sasha, such a pleasure_ ,” Tyler says as he approaches Alex. “ _It’s been such a long time._ ”

Jason and Val both look at Tyler confused, and Tyler wonders if they didn’t know that he was fluent in Russian.

“ _You never come by to see me anymore,_ ” Alex jokes, his mother tongue flowing flawlessly. “ _Me and Evgeni miss you._ ”

Tyler can’t help the way his cheeks heat up, even if momentarily. “ _Washington is so far from me now; I can’t escape for a night or two that easily anymore. But tonight_ ? _Tell Backstrom. I don’t want to be shot at again_.”

Alex laughs, nods. “Of course, Seggy. How’s the baby?”

Tyler opens his arms, smiles when Oleksiak hands Sebastian back. “He’s good. He’s getting chubby.”

Alex shakes his head, smiling at Sebastian. “He’s healthy.”

Tyler shrugs. “Tarasenko?”

“He’s here,” He confirms. “I haven’t seen him though. He knows better.”

Tyler nods. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

“ _I can’t believe he sent you here. With your history_?” Alex mutters casually. “ _I would never._ ”

“ _Can’t change it. It doesn’t bother me as much anymore_ ,” Tyler replies, looking around as people begin to settle into their respective seats.

Alex puts a hand on Tyler’s shoulder, smiles sympathetically. “We must.”

Jason moves down a seat, opening up the seat to Tyler so that he can sit next to Alex. Tyler nods his thanks, pulls out the chair, and settles into the leather seat. Oleksiak takes a seat offset between Tyler, and Alex as he carefully observed everyone seated at the table. Tyler can’t help but feel a rush of safety crash into his chest; with Oleksiak behind him, and Alex beside him, he knew that nothing would happen to him.

A glass of ice water has been placed in front of him, along with a legal pad, and a pen. Tyler’s grateful for the hospitality, grateful for the little things that Gretzky never seemed to miss. Tyler settles Sebastian into his lap, gratefully taking the proffered keys from Oleksiak to entertain Sebastian with.

The Administration enter, in their usual order; Mario, Jagr, Yzerman, Gretzky, Roy, Messier, and  Modano. Gretzky takes his seat first, waits for the rest of the administration to follow suit before he begins to speak.

“Welcome to the annual meetings,” He begins. “I would like to remind all of you that this is a neutral ground, meaning that any of the bullshit you have going on at home will not be tolerated here.”

There are upset murmurs around the table, but it doesn’t stop Gretzky from continuing.

“As you all know, we have had some,” He pauses. “Unfortunate changes in the leaderships of the Families. There’s a new underboss in Dallas, a new consigliere in Boston, a new underboss and consigliere in Toronto, and a new boss in Carolina.”

Tyler pretends that his head isn’t beating out of chest, that he can’t feel the rage building in his hands. Jagr never told him that the council was appointing the new leaders in Toronto, never gave him the opportunity to go back to his home and build Toronto the way that his father had wanted.

“Tyler Seguin is now the underboss in Dallas. Brad Marchand is the consigliere in Boston. Auston Matthews is the new underboss in Toronto, and Jake Gardiner is the new consigliere. Jared Staal is the new head of the Family in Carolina.”

There’s another round of grumbles mixed with some words of support. Tyler can’t help but be confused; why the fuck would you put such a young kid as the underboss in Toronto? Did they want Toronto to fail?

“I’m serious, I don’t want any underhanded or dirty plays. This has been a bad year, for all of us. We need to figure this shit out,” Gretzky continues. “I know about the stupid shit you guys have been doing. Burning down businesses, throwing people through glass windows, attempted bombings. It’s goddamn ridiculous. For fuck sake, you’re all grown men.”

Tyler smiles, nudges Alex.

“Now that we have that out of the way,” He continues. “We’re here to figure our shit out. We can’t make money if we’re killing each other. This year, we need to deal with lines of operation, narcotics, and the gun trade. These are all extremely important, and I expect you to treat it like such. Now, onto business. Is there anything anyone wants to start with?”

Sidney immediately stands, looks over to Tyler, who nods again.

“I want a council vote on my proposition,” Sidney begins. “To start moving my guns over to Europe, and Russia.”

The room explodes in disagreements for a moment before it quiets back down. “Does anyone support this proposition?”

Tyler and Jagr raise their hands at the same time. Alex raises his hand a second after Tyler, nodding to Evgeni. It takes a moment, but Mario shakes his head, and raises his hand. Gretzky nods at this, looks to the men on either side of him.

“Yes,” He says, looking to Yzerman.

Three more yes votes, and three more no votes, the council narrowly passes Sidney’s proposition.

The rest of the night goes like that, members of individual Families asking for the council to vote on various things that they needed permission on. Sebastian ends up snoring peacefully in Tyler’s arms, undisturbed by the rise and fall of the voices in the room. Tyler doesn’t miss the looks he gets from Evgeni, doesn’t miss Alex’s hand on his thigh throughout the meeting.

It’s a blessing when Gretzky finally announces that they’ll continue tomorrow, and lets them out. Tyler gives the keys to the rental to Jason before he cradles Sebastian in his arms.

“You guys head to the hotel. Me and Oleksiak are not going there tonight,” Tyler orders. “Be here on time tomorrow.”

“What the fuck do you mean you’re not coming back with us?” Jason hisses. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“None of your business,” Tyler replies, voice cold. “All you need to know is that I’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Jamie said––”

“I, quite frankly, don’t give a fuck what Jamie said,” Tyler snaps.

Tyler’s being pulled away by Alex, and he smiles. “I’ll see you two tomorrow. Don’t be dumb.”

He let’s Alex turn him around, lead him out of the house and back to his car, ordering Backstrom to drive them to their hotel, telling Tyler that Evgeni’s going to meet them there once Sidney let’s him go. Oleksiak keeps up, sliding into the passenger seat as Tyler nods, let’s Alex pull him into the backseat and into his warm embrace. If Backstrom has an issue with it, he doesn’t say anything, dutifully waiting in the line forming to get out of Gretzky’s house. Tyler smiles when he sees a rear facing car seat in the backseat. He makes quick work of securing Sebastian before he turns to Alex.

“ _It’s been so long,_ ” Alex breathes. “ _Is Jamie taking care of you_?”

Tyler laughs, shakes his head. “ _No. There’s no time, Sasha. You know it’s different. They run things different away from the East._ ”

Alex shakes his head. “ _Because they don’t know how nice it is to mix business and personal shit._ ”

Tyler hums, lets himself relax into Alex’s embrace. The car is silent for a moment before his phone begins to ring. Tyler groans, fishing it out of his pants pocket.

“Yeah?” He answers, annoyed.

“Where the fuck are you going tonight?” Jamie hisses. “I didn’t send you to Apalachin to get fucked by your friends. What you do on your time is your business, but you’re on my time now.”

“If I want to get my dick sucked, I don’t see why I can’t,” Tyler snaps back. “Listen, I would love to continue this conversation, but I have more pressing matters to attend to. I’ll see you when I come home in a couple days.”

Tyler hangs up, tosses his phone to Oleksiak. He rubs his forehead, wants nothing more than to kick off his shoes and curl into Alex’s lap. Alex must sense this, because he starts toying with Tyler’s hair idly, running his hands through the waves.

Tyler doesn’t know how much time passes until Backstrom’s announcing that they’ve arrived at the hotel. Tyler sits up, disoriented and defensive until he remembers that he’s with Alex, and that Alex would die to protect him if needed. Alex wouldn’t hurt him.

“Come on, Seggy,” He encourages. “We must.”

Tyler nods, slides out of the backseat. He moves to get Sebastian, realizes that Oleksiak already has him out of the car, and in his arms. He takes Alex’s hand, lets Alex lead him through the hotel, and up to the room. He can’t help but to let his guard down; no matter what, he knows that no one knows where he is, and if someone were to find out, he knows that Alex’s men will protect him as if he were their own.

Orpik and Oshie meet them in the lobby, Holtby trailing not far behind. Oshie looks confusedly at Tyler, but Orpik’s quick to shake his head, a silent assurance that it wasn’t a big deal, and it didn’t need to be addressed. Backstrom and Holtby fall behind Tyler and Alex, quiet conversation about the developments of the day.

“ _You look young again_ ,” Alex murmurs, an arm slung around Tyler’s shoulders as they enter the elevator. “ _Don’t look so tired_.”

Tyler shrugs. “ _Safe here._ ”

Alex nods, tightens his arm around Tyler’s shoulder. “Always.”

The doors slide open, and Alex steers him to the left. Holtby takes Orpik into the room at the very end of the hallway, and Backstrom follows Oshie into the room on the other side on Ovechkin’s. Tyler nods, it made sense that they would keep Alex between them in case anything happened.

“Oleksiak, you and Seb can stay with Backstrom. He has supplies for the baby, yeah?” Alex says. “These men are my best men.”

Oleksiak looks to Tyler for confirmation, who nods. “I promise. You could probably leave Sebastian with them if you wanted to have a night out on the town.”

Oleksiak nods. “Whatever you say, Segs.”

Oleksiak dutifully follows Backstrom into his room, shutting the door gently behind him.

Alex fiddles in his back pocket, pulls out the room key, unlocking the door.

“Thank fuck,” Tyler murmurs, excited to slide his feet out of his uncomfortable dress shoes.

“Dumb that we have to dress up for the meetings,” Alex sighs, loosening his tie. “I don’t see the point.”

“No one does. It’s stupid,” He replies, pulling the percocet out of his jacket, and tossing it onto the bed before he pulls at the knot of his tie. “Especially since this shit takes days.”

Tyler sighs while he unbuttons his shirt.

He doesn’t say anything, knows that he doesn’t have to. He winces as he pulls off his shirt; his shoulder pulls, a sharp pain radiates from it. He can’t help but to run a gentle hand over the scar. It starts just behind his right ear, curves down the back of his neck, and ends on top of his right shoulder cap. It had scarred deep, like a canyon on his normally smooth skin. It’s still sensitive, still pink in hue from what Tyler can see.

“Don’t,” Alex murmurs, grabbing Tyler’s hand. “We’re staying in the present. Not back then.”

Tyler shrugs, looks away. “Hard not to.”

“No, listen,” Alex says, moving to sit in front of Tyler. “You can’t live in the past. Not now. That’s not how you heal.”

“It’s deeper than just some dumbass scar,” Tyler replies. “They left me in a goddamn alley to bleed to death in. I hate going home because all I can feel is the pain.”

“Vent,” Alex commands, voice soft. “Safe here, _Kolya_ , remember?”

And Tyler does, that’s the thing. He knows that he’s safe here, that Alex would die for Tyler. He doesn’t have to question it. He knows it with every fiber in his being, and yet Tyler can’t force the tension out of his body, can’t relax as Alex pulls Tyler into his chest, lets maneuver until he’s comfortable.

“It’s just hard, Alex. After everything. Having Sebastian here,” Tyler murmurs. “God, Sasha. I just fucking miss Brownie. I just want Brownie to come home.”

“I know, Seggy. I know you do,” Alex murmurs, rubbing Tyler’s back.

“I’m tired of it. I’m tired of thinking about it all the goddamn time,” Tyler replies. “Just. I missed feeling like this. Safe.”

“You’re safe in Dallas,” He murmurs, voice soft. “Jamie won’t let anything happen to you, Ty.”

Tyler shrugs, doesn’t respond. He sits up, unbuttons his pants. He slides out of them, throwing them into the same corner Alex had piled the rest of their clothes. He pulls a small bag of pills out of his pant’s pocket out. Pulling it open, he shakes two into his hands. He dry swallows them, shakes his head. His whole body is sore, head pounding. He moves back into Alex’s chest, rests his head on Alex’s shoulder. He closes his eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath.

They stay like that for a long while, the long stretches of silence comforting. Tyler’s content to let Alex handle everything as he lets his mind wander. At some point, Tyler hears Backstrom come in, but Alex handles it.

“Let’s get you in bed, actually,” Alex mutters, slowly moving out from behind Tyler.

It’s a moment before Tyler’s laying on his back, Alex next to him with the lights off. Tyler’s hands come to rest on Alex’s hips, pull Alex into him. Alex lets it happen, allows Tyler to rake his teeth over his neck. Alex moves to straddle Tyler, the early morning sun illuminating his shadow. The morning passes in blurs of intertangled body parts, blurs of deep moans, blurs of a feeling of connectedness that Tyler hadn’t felt in ages. They move in unison, the crackle of passion going back and forth between them.

At the end of it all, Tyler’s plastered to Alex’s chest, panting and sated; for the first time in a long time, his head is quiet.

“ _My Tyler,_ ” Alex murmurs. “ _You deserve the world._ ”

 

The next morning is a clusterfuck.

Tyler, and Alex both wake up late; Backstrom coming in at eleven to make sure that they hadn’t died to find them tangled in the hotel sheets together. Backstrom had shook them awake, a crying Sebastian on his side.

“What the fuck?” Tyler mutters, squinting his eyes against the morning sun.

“You know that the meetings start soon, right?” He asks, bouncing Sebastian.

Tyler sits up, shoving Alex’s arm off of his torso. “Give me the child,” He mutters, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

Backstrom leans over the bed, hands Sebastian over. Tyler makes shushing noises, bringing Sebastian into his chest. He rests Sebastian on his bare chest, gently rubbing circles into his back.

“Hey, hey” Tyler whispers. “I know. I know you’re unhappy, but guess what? Daddy is here.”

“Alex,” Backstrom hisses, shaking his foot. “Get the fuck up. You’re running late.”

Alex groans, sitting up. He murmurs something in Russia, Tyler can’t hear it over Sebastian’s cries. Tyler notices that Sebastian’s dressed in a dark blue striped with white onesie, with a black jacket over the top half, unzipped, and a black beanie pulled over his head. Alex swings his legs over the bed, stretching as he stands. There’s a knock on the door, and Backstrom strides over to the door, pulling it open to reveal Oleksiak.

“How long has he been like this?” Tyler asks, looking between Oleksiak, and Backstrom.

Oleksiak shrugs. “Ten or so minutes. He’s been fed, his diaper doesn’t need to be changed, and when I tried to swaddle him, he started to cry worse.”

Tyler nods. “He just needs to cry it out.”

Alex groans, starting to pull on his suit to go to the meetings. Tyler doesn’t move, continuing to hold Sebastian to his chest as he whispers quiet reassurances to him. By the time Sebastian is all cried out, Alex is fully dressed, buttoning his cufflinks as he looks at Tyler.

“Just tell Jaro I’ll be late,” Tyler says, waving his hand. “You go. I’ll be okay.”

“ _Are you sure_ ?” Alex asks. “ _It’s not a big deal. I can wait for you_.”

“ _No. You go_ ,” Tyler replies, shaking his head. “ _T_ _rust. It’ll be just fine_.”

Alex nods, looking at Backstrom. “We go.”

As the door clicks shut, Tyler groans. “Jesus fucking Christ. Have you been in contact with Val or Jason?”

Oleksiak nods, rubbing his eyes. “They know that me and you are running late.”

Sebastian hiccups, and Tyler rubs his back. “Get in my phone, call Jaromir. Tell him that Tarasenko had his men waiting outside this morning. After that, get us an Uber.”

“Did he?” Oleksiak asks.

“No. He didn’t, but Jaro doesn’t know.”

Oleksiak nods, unlocking Tyler’s phone. As Oleksiak calls Jaromir, Tyler sits up, pulling Sebastian away from his chest.

“You’re such a little shit, you know that?” Tyler murmurs. “I still love you.”

Tyler props Sebastian up on the pillow he had been laying on, stretching. He makes quick work of getting dressed, trying to style his hair the best he can in the mirror. He turns to Oleksiak.

“I need you to hit me as hard as you can.”

Oleksiak’s eyes widen. “What?”

Tyler squares his shoulders. “It’ll be more believable. Just hit me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Jesus kid, just fucking––”

Tyler sucks on his teeth, wincing when he tastes the metallic hint of blood. He brings his hand up to the corner of his mouth, wiping away the blood. He rights his stance, looking up at Oleksiak.

“Just like that?” Oleksiak grins, rubbing his left hand. “You okay?”

Tyler nods, feeling his teeth with his tongue, groaning when he feels a gap. Blood drips out of the corner of his mouth, staining his collared button up white shirt.

“What?” Oleksiak chuckles. “Don’t have dental?”

“Do I fucking look like someone that would carry dental insurance?”

Oleksiak shrugs. “I mean. You should.”

Tyler shrugs, pulling his tooth out of his mouth, putting it in his pants pocket. His phone chimes, and Tyler looks down to see a notification saying that their Uber is waiting.

“Probably. You ready?”

Oleksiak nods, striding over to pick up Sebastian. He lifts up Sebastian slowly, smiling at him as he does. Tyler leads them out of the hotel room, down the elevator, and into the street. Tyler manages to get into the Uber without issue, although Oleksiak’s long ass legs don’t seem to want to fit in the backseat.

The ride to Gretzky’s spralling estate is silent, the city passing by in flashes. Snow gently drifts down on the city; Tyler idly wishes that he could still experience the snow, and winter in Dallas, he had always loved the winter when he was growing up.

Tyler tips the driver generously for driving them, before sliding out of the car behind Oleksiak. Oleksiak enters the house first, throwing the door open wide enough that Tyler is able to slip through without touching the door. The long table quiets as soon as Oleksiak appears, Jagr stopping in the middle of his sentence when he sees the blood on Tyler’s shirt.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Tarasenko quips. “What? Overslept after Alex fucked you?”

Tyler shakes his head, looking directly at Jaromir. “See? I told you. Look at what his men did to me.”

Tyler pulls out his tooth from his pocket, putting it on the table in front of Jaromir. It still has blood spots on it. Jaromir shakes his head, glaring towards Tarasenko.

“What part of no dirty plays did you not fucking understand?” Jaro hisses as Tyler and Oleksiak walk towards their seats.

Sebastian giggles when Sidney waves at him, reaching towards Sidney. Oleksiak grins, handing the baby off as Tyler settles into his seat next to Ovechkin. Alex grins at Tyler, shakes his head as he looks over Tyler’s bloodstained shirt.

" _Clever plan_ ,” Alex concedes. “ _Worth losing the tooth_?”

Tyler shrugs his shoulders. “ _Always worth it to fuck over Vlad._ ”

“Jaromir, I did not have him jumped,” Tarasenko insists, voice growing more annoyed. “He probably fucking hit himself.”

Tyler shifts his face into a look of innocence. “Why would I fucking hit myself, Jaro? Come on, you know how much I value my looks.”

“You know what,” Jaromir hisses, pointing at Tarasenko. “I’m going to fucking let Gretzky deal with you. Now, back to business.”

Tarasenko glares over at Tyler, eyes deadly. Tyler smiles smugly back, leaning back into his chair. He can idly hear the conversation about the narcotics trade in the background, can hear Sebastian making noises at Sidney. Tyler relishes the feeling of Ovechkin and Malkin’s protective strength radiating from beside him, and for the first time in a long time, Tyler lets his guard down.

  
  
  



	4. March (Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry for how long this took. college is kicking my ass.

Jamie sits in the office of the mechanic’s shop, looking over the pile of invoices. He sighs as he feels the pounding in the back of his head begin; he really needed to call Kari to sort this shit out. He had never been a numbers person which was why he had Kari or Tyler take care of the businesses. He looks up as the office door opens, and Tyler slips in. He shuts the door behind him, sniffles once before coming to stand in front of the desk. Jamie notices that his Boston College shirt has what appears to be a grease stain on it.

“I wanted to ask you about something,” Tyler says, scratching his neck before dropping his hands to his sides. “Is it okay if I go to Tennessee next week?”

Jamie’s eyebrows come together. “What the fuck is in Tennessee?”

Tyler shifts on his feet. “I have a cabin. Me, Blackie, and Freddy go out there every March.”

Jamie nods, contemplating. He had been considering calling a meeting with Boston next week, something to talk to Bergeron about why they had raised the price on the gun shipments so high.

“Promise you’ll stay low?” Jamie asks, leaning back in his chair.

“Always,” Tyler smiles. “No business.”

“Have a good time,” Jamie says. “It’ll be good for you to get out of here for a couple days.”

“Thanks,” Tyler replies. “I’ll let Kari know.”

 

Tyler sighs as he walks through Chattanooga Metropolitan Airport, carrying Sebastian––who had insisted to cry during the last thirty minutes of the plane ride despite Tyler’s effort to make it stop. He had apologized profusely to those who had been on board with him, face red with embarrassment. He shoulder aches as he pulls his luggage behind him, looking for his two friends.

He spots Jesse holding a sign with his name on it, so he makes a beeline towards him. Jesse smiles when he realizes that it’s Tyler coming for him, putting the sign down as he moves to half hug Tyler.

“Good to see you again man,” Jesse says, clapping Tyler on the shoulder. “How’s the little guy doing?”

“Pissed that he missed his afternoon nap because he decided to cry instead,” Tyler replies, hoisting Sebastian up again. “Did you get the money I venmoed you?”

Jesse nods, nodding towards the exit. “Yeah. I bought to the carseat and stuff for him too. You didn’t have to send me money for it.”  
“Shut up. Yes I did. He’s not your kid,” Tyler replies.

Jesse rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, Freddy’s waiting in the car.”

Tyler follows Jesse through the airport, clutching onto Sebastian tightly. Something about crowded places had always made Tyler anxious when he had Sebastian; he blames it on all of the movies he’s seen about the child being abducted to get to the parents.

(He pretends that he doesn’t know that members of the mafia had done the exact same thing to those who owed them money, or to those who had fucked them over.)

 

It’s a three hour ride to the cabin from the airport. Tyler’s comfortably sitting in the backseat, looking over Sebastian as he sleeps for most of the car ride. The three men make quiet conversation, mostly platitudes, and ‘how have you been’. Tyler doesn’t mind, content to stare out the window, and observe nature as they pass by. He’s fascinated with the exposed rock face on the highway, doesn’t remember ever seeing that the previous times that he had come to Tennessee.

“It doesn’t feel the same,” Jesse murmurs, looking straight ahead.

Freddy nods from the driver’s seat, his hand tightening on the steering wheel.

Tyler remains silent, dragging his thumb over the long and twisted scar on his left wrist. He turns his focus onto Sebastian, admiring how peaceful he looked as he slept.

It’s not long until they’re pulling into the twisting driveway of the cabin. Tyler feels a tension leave his shoulders the closer they get; the trees are gorgeous this time of year, bright green as the spring comes in. The mountains no longer look barren, they’re awakened again with new growth. From what Tyler can tell, there is a gentle wind jostling the low hanging branches.

Tyler looks away as the car comes to a stop. Freddy sighs, pulling the keys out of the ignition. None of them speak as they move to get out of the vehicle; Jesse and Freddy collect all of the luggage from the trunk so that Tyler can focus on getting Sebastian out.

“Seggy, throw me the keys,” Blackie yells over his shoulder, standing in front of the door.

Tyler digs into his front pants pocket, fishing his keys out to toss them to Jesse. Jesse catches them, smiling his thanks at Tyler before he unlocks the door. Freddy follow behind, and Tyler shuts the door behind him soon after.

Tyler sets down the car seat on the couch, expertly undoing the straps. He slowly picks up Sebastian, smiling as his eyes open.

“Good morning, sleepy boy,” Tyler murmurs. “Look, there’s Uncle Jesse, and Uncle Freddy.”

The pair smile, coming out of the hallway. Sebastian smiles, waving his arms towards Jesse. Jesse smiles, sets down the bags on the dining room table. He strides over, taking Sebastian from Tyler’s arms.

“What’re you feeding this kid?” Jesse asks, looking at Tyler. “He’s getting bigger.”

“You need to talk to mom,” Tyler replies. “She always calls and tells me what I need to change.”

Jesse chuckles, walking towards the kitchen. “I’m not surprised.”

Tyler follows him, memories flashing through his head of the secret trips that he and Brownie had made to the cabin, the memories of the four of them coming up after, and Jesse being confused about things being out of place. Tyler and Brownie would laugh, telling Jesse he’s getting crazier the older he gets.

Tyler’s chest feels empty.

“We need to go to a store,” Freddy says, snapping Tyler out of his stupor. “There’s nothing here.”

“I knew I forgot something,” Jesse hisses.

Tyler laughs. “You always forget that we need food; don’t act like its new.”

“Okay mister ‘I forget to eat all the fucking time’.”

“Oh fuck off,” Tyler replies. “I’m a busy man.”

Jesse rolls his eyes, shifting Sebastian to his other shoulder. Sebastian smiles, rests his head against Jesse’s shoulder.

 

Later into the night, after Sebastian is asleep for the night, the three men wander out onto the back porch, bringing two six packs of a local brew. Jesse and Tyler stand at the railing, overlooking the rolling hills of trees in bloom while Freddy sits in a wooden rocking chair that he had dragged out from Sebastian’s room. The sun had mostly set, a few rays of sunshine illuminating the forest. Birds are chirping, but besides that, all is quiet.

Tyler never realized how much he had missed the silence.

The silence remains until the sunlight is gone, replaced by the moonlight. Tyler leans against the railing, takes a sip of beer. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, swirling his bottle around. He looks up at the sky, and finds a strange comfort in all of the stars he can see.

“You ever talk to him?” Jesse asks, keeping his gave straight ahead. “I do, sometimes. The guys think I’m fucking crazy.”

“Like fucking Giroux has any ground to call you fucking crazy,” Tyler replies, clenching his hands. “Sometimes I do. Not often. It’s hard.”

“I always feel like he’s with me,” Freddy chimes in. “Especially when I have to go to that part of Toronto.”

“I miss him,” Tyler replies. “It shouldn’t have been him.”

No one says a word, letting the words settle.

“You dying wouldn’t have been any better,” Jesse replies. “You know that Brownie would’ve lost his shit.”

“Just like I did at his funeral? Do you not remember my eulogy?” Tyler hisses. “It was a motherfucking mess.”

“It’s normal,” Freddy replies. “You were grieving.”

Tyler shakes his head, decides to drop the topic. “Sebastian is looking more and more like him everyday.”

“Has anyone in Dallas asked anything?”

“One kid. I brought him on to help me keep Sebby safe. He told me that Sebby doesn’t look like me. I just told him that he got his looks from his mother. It’s easier than explaining the whole thing, you know?”

Jesse shakes his head. “No one’s going to think less of you if you tell them the truth.”

“The truth is none of their fucking business. I don’t trust anyone enough yet,” He replies. “Listen, I’ll tell eventually. But for now, it’s on a need to know basis.”

If Jesse rolls his eyes, Tyler doesn’t see, turning around to grab another beer.

“How is being an underboss now?” Freddy asks, following Tyler’s action.

Tyler’s shoulders untense as he takes a deep breath. “It’s okay. Definitely not what I expected. It’s a lot of making decisions, and trying to keep everyone alive.”

Freddy nods. “Toronto’s been a clusterfuck. These new kids,” He pauses. “They’re too fucking young.”

Tyler nods, taking a drink. “I know. I tried to talk to Jagr about it, but he shut me down.”

“Of course he did,” Jesse sighs. “I was confused when I heard you were moved to Dallas. You don’t have any connections down there.”

“Not to mention how far away you are from Sid, and Geno.”

Tyler nods. “I miss them. I miss everyone in the east. We don’t get to deal with them often.”

Silence overtakes the men again, the comforting sound of cicadas constant. Tyler sighs, shaking his head.

(He remembers the last time he and Brownie had snuck here; it had been a humid summer night, both of them sitting under the night sky.

Brownie had brought good vodka, Tyler can remember the cyrillic lettering wrapping around the bottle, remembers Brownie’s warm smile as he looked at Tyler.

“How’re Ovie and Sidney?”

Tyler had shrugged, sluggish. “They’re fine. I’m not really thinking about them right now.”

“No?” Brownie’s eyebrows raise. “What’re you thinking, TyTy?”

They meet eyes. Tyler looked away first.

“Everything,” He replied, shoulders relaxing. “And nothing at the same time. It’s blissful.”

Brownie had laughed, closing his eyes.

“I can’t wait for you to come home,” He murmured, looking over Tyler’s body. “Toronto needs you more than Boston does.”

“Gonna have to convince Jagr that.”

“Just talk to Sid,” Brownie shrugged. “Kid has leverage.”

“I already did,” Tyler admitted. “He’s trying.”

Brownie had shrugged again, opening his eyes again. He stood, striding to the railing.

“We could always run away. I hear that New Zealand is nice.”

Tyler shook his head. “We don’t have enough yet.”

“We never will.”

Tyler couldn’t help but wince at the tone in Brownie’s voice. “We will. Just give me time, Brownie.”

“We don’t have a lot of time.”

“I know we don’t. I’m trying as hard as I can. I can only skim so much off of the books until someone starts to notice.”

Brownie’s shoulders had been tense. He finally sighed, turning to look at Tyler.

“I just worry.”

Tyler smiled. “I know you do, but hey. When have I ever let you down?”

Looking back, that sentence is the one he finds he regrets the most.

Brownie had chuckled. “You never have. Somehow.”)

The next morning, Tyler rolls awake on the couch. He faintly hears Sebastian crying from one of the bedrooms in the hallway. Tyler groans, takes a moment to breathe deeply before he stands up. He stumbles towards Sebastian’s bedroom, gently pushes open the door.

Sebastian’s face is red, angry tears rolling down his face. Tyler sighs.

“Come on, Sebby,” Tyler murmurs. “Hey. Daddy’s here.”

Tyler picks up Sebastian, feels his diaper to find a wet diaper. He takes Sebastian over to the white changing table, gently puts him down. He makes quick work of unbuttoning the solid navy onesie, taking Sebastian’s diaper off. Tyler expertly cleans him up, putting a new diaper on him.

“All better?” Tyler asks, throwing away the soiled diaper.

Sebastian smiles, tears long forgotten.

“Okay, kiddo,” Tyler states. “Listen, it’s seven in the morning. Let’s go back to sleep, yeah?”

Tyler picks up Sebastian, walking back out to the couch. He lays down, gently laying Sebastian down on his chest. Tyler places a hand on Sebastian’s back, sitting up slightly to bring a brown throw blanket down over them. Tyler lays down again, keeping a hand on Sebastian, who drops his head to Tyler’s chest, closing his eyes.

Tyler smiles, closing his eyes.

“Jesus fuck, dude,” Jesse hisses. “Are you going to sleep all day? We have work to do.”

Tyler groans, opening his eyes. “I don’t get to sleep this well in Texas. Let me sleep you fuckhead.”

Sebastian’s eyes flutter open, and he looks expectantly up at Tyler.

“Daddy,” Sebastian murmurs, pointing at Tyler.

Tyler smiles, nodding. “Yeah, Sebastian. I’m your daddy.”

Jesse feels as if he’s invading on an intimate moment, feels as if he should leave, but yet he can’t make himself leave. Seeing Tyler this raw, this open, is something that he hadn’t seen since Tyler had left Toronto so many years ago.

Tyler looks over towards Jesse, eyes bright. “Where’s Freddy?”

“Out shopping,” He replies.

Tyler nods, picking up Sebastian. He swings his legs over the couch, keeping Sebastian secure in his arms. Tyler shifts Sebastian into his right arm, rubbing his eyes with his left hand. He yawns, shaking his head.

“You hungry?” He asks, looking down at Sebastian.

Jesse snorts. “You probably fuckin’ are.”

Tyler shrugs his shoulders. “I can wait. He’s gotta be fed first. Do we have peaches?”

“Uh, I think so? Why?”

Tyler nods, walking towards the kitchen, the floor creaking underneath him.

“If you could get Sebby’s high chair from his bedroom, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Jesse nods, shuffling down the hallway. Tyler pulls open the fridge, pulling some mangos and peaches out, setting them on the counter.

“Here,” Jesse says, putting the high chair at the end of the breakfast bar.

Tyler nods, moving to put Sebastian in the chair. He grabs the blender from the cupboard under the island, putting it onto the counter top. He makes quick work of pureeing the fruits together, putting the mixture into a bowl with a baby spoon for Sebastian to eat with.

It’s not long until Freddy comes through the front door, carrying four brown paper bags with him. He looks up, noticing Tyler’s frame immediately staring out of the window perched over the sink.

“When’s the shipment coming in?” Freddy asks, looking towards Tyler.

Tyler doesn’t respond, a far away look in his eyes as he stares forward. Jesse pushes Tyler’s shoulder, causing him to stumble, coming back to the present.

“What?” He asks, looking between them.

“I asked when the shipment is coming in,” Freddy repeats.

“Oh. Marchy should be bringing it in soon.”

Freddy nods. “The usual?”

“Just guns. Should be more than usual. Patrice is cutting us a deal.”

Jesse’s eyes narrow. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t fucking know. I don’t typically ask him questions.”

Jesse raises his hands. “Calm down. It’s just not like him not to be a dick.”

“You don’t know Saint that well then,” Tyler replies, rolling his eyes.

“Just because he was never a dick to you doesn’t mean he’s not a dick to others,” Jesse reminds, voice hard. “This is still a business. I have every right to be fucking skeptical of Patrice Bergeron.”

“No, you really don’t,” Tyler replies. “It’s Saint. He’s never fucked you over.”

Jesse shakes his head. “Let’s just agree to disagree, yeah?”

Within a few hours, the three men are joined by Brad, all huddled around an open duffle bag. Brad has two more on his shoulders, the straps digging into his skin.

“M-16’s, M4’s,  everything that you boys need,” Brad says, voice hard.

Tyler nods, looking to Freddy and Jesse. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, then two. The only sound throughout the room is Jesse, and Freddy picking up the guns, seeing how they feel in their hands before putting them down.

“I can’t stay long,” Brad states, looking towards Tyler. “Saint needs me back as soon as possible.”

Tyler nods. “Of course. Follow me.”

Brad sets the other two bags down on the floor, following Tyler down the hallway, and into his bedroom. Brad shuts the door behind him as Tyler pulls out his suitcase.

“Good shit?” Brad asks, catching the plastic wrapped bundle Tyler tosses his way.

“Always is,” Tyler chuckles. “Straight from Columbia.”

Brad laughs, shaking his head as he takes a second bundle. “How you manage this is beyond me.”

He smirks, looking towards Brad. “Some secrets aren’t meant to be found out.”

“How’s Sebby?” Brad asks, keeping his tone conversational.

“He’s still napping,” Tyler replies. “He’s been good. I brought a kid on to help me with him.”

“I heard. Oleksiak? Seems like a nice kid.”

Tyler nods, taking a seat on the bed. “It’s alright. Not what I envisioned.”

Brad nods, leaning against the door. “It’ll work out. Shit takes time, Seggy.”

Tyler snorts, chuckling to himself. “Yeah. I guess. Patience has never been a virtue for me.”

“That’s nothing new. Stubborn ass.”

The tension in the room is thick, Tyler, and Brad sneaking glances at each other. Tyler shifts on the bed, feels the far away dull ache in his shoulder as he waits for Brad to break the silence.

“I miss you in Boston, you know. Saint sends me out with Ference now. It’s not the same.”

“Of course not,” Tyler laughs. “He’s not fucking nuts.”

“Jaro called Patrice last week,” Brad reveals. “Said that his man at the FBI called him, and told him that they’re starting to build a case.”

“About who?” Tyler asks, all of his attention on Brad.

Brad shakes his head. “We don’t know yet. Jaro promised he would call a meeting of all of the bosses when he knew more.”

Tyler shakes his head, looking down.

“Listen Tyler, it’ll work out. We haven’t gotten caught yet, yeah?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

 

Tyler arrives back in Dallas exactly seven days after he had left to find Oleksiak, and Jamie talking to each other in his dining room.

Tyler smiles, gently closing the door so that he doesn’t wake up Sebastian, who had been sleeping since he boarded the plane.

“Having a party without me?” He jokes, looking towards the pair.

“How was Tennessee?” Jamie asks, looking away from Oleksiak.

Tyler shrugs. “It wasn’t too bad. What can I say?”

Jamie nods. “Good. We missed you down here.”

Tyler shakes his head, smiles. “No, I’m just an asshole.”

“I’m proud of you for admitting that.”

  


Despite their disagreements, Jamie starts milling around Tyler’s house more, starts spending the nights at Tyler’s house more often. Jamie hated spending the nights in his own house; he always had. The brick was uninviting, the interior too fragile to use.

Tyler doesn’t mind, and if he does, he never mentions it to Jamie. Tyler gives Jamie his own bedroom upstairs, jokes that Jamie’s special because he gets the biggest guest room in the house. Jamie wants to say that he doesn’t want to be a guest, that he wants to be here all of the time, but he decides against it.

Jamie wakes up close to noon, the sunlight blinding him as he stretches. Jamie throws on some old grey sweatpants before he shuffles down the cold white marble stairs.

The house is eerily quiet.

It always was in the mornings; Tyler wasn’t a morning person, and no one generally came over until later into the day. Oleksiak was pretty damn good at making sure that Sebastian never woke up Jamie, or Tyler; Jamie’s not sure how the kid does it, but the more he hangs around, the more Jamie sees why Tyler hired him.

The silence is comforting in a way Jamie had never experienced; it wasn’t uncomfortable like it was at his house. He felt more settled here, and he couldn’t explain it to save his life.

Tyler had left Jamie a note in front of the coffee pot; Jamie can’t help the smile that comes when he reads Tyler’s chicken scratch. Tyler’s at the bar, helping Jordie lug up the good liquor up from the basement, and to help the new recruits find out who their caporegimes will be.

Jamie couldn’t keep track of all the new guys coming in; Tyler had brought a wave of new bodies, something that Dallas had desperately needed.

Jamie cracks his neck, revelling in the relief that comes. He delves through Tyler’s cabinets, looking for coffee. It doesn't take him long to find it, and he makes quick work of making his morning coffee. The morning light pours in from the front windows; the white marble tile in the entrance way sparkles as the sunlight reflects off of it.

Jamie moves to sit in one of the grey armchairs as he looks around the lower level of the house. Objectively speaking, the house was an architectural masterpiece. The white brick exterior stood beautifully against the tree heavy property. Jamie didn’t understand the large windows in the front of the house that showed into the office and the library from a security standpoint; it wouldn’t be hard for someone to break into Tyler’s house by breaking one of those windows. A picture on the coffee table catches Jamie’s eye, and he picks it up.

Jamie’s eyebrows raise when he’s confronted with a picture of Tyler holding Sebastian. There’s another man sitting next to Tyler; brown hair, brown eyes, from what Jamie can tell, the man looks shorter than Tyler. A woman’s hand rests upon Tyler’s shoulder, and a woman with long curly red hair looks over his shoulder with a smile upon her face.

Jamie doesn’t remember Tyler ever mentioning having a kid, but Tyler has shown up with one, so Jamie is certain that the baby is Sebastian. He’s not sure who the man or the woman is, wonders idly if the woman is the mother. Jamie shoves down his feelings, opting instead to look around some more after setting the photo back down where he had found it.

It didn’t take anyone long to realize that Tyler had an affinity for white marble with black veins throughout the rock. Jamie had always admired the black veins that ran throughout the stone, although he didn’t understand why Tyler had wanted it throughout his house.

The entryway had white marble hexagonal tile that looked stunning as the sun shone onto it. The staircase was the same tile, the countertops in all of the bathrooms and kitchen were white marble. The marble stood in stark contrast to the dark cherry wood floor that ran throughout the rest of the house.

As Jamie looks around, he wonders how Tyler had managed to turn white into an inviting color. The cabinets in the kitchen were white, all the wall tile in the kitchen and bathrooms was a gorgeous white herringbone pattern. The walls were unpainted, adorned with explosions of color in the paintings that were hung; Jamie notes that some are of sunsets, while some are abstract pieces, some are watercolor pieces.

Tyler had a stray cat as well, Jamie notices. She came like clockwork, expectant of the cat food that Tyler left out every morning and every evening. Jamie knew that Tyler had a soft spot for her. The orange cat always ran up to Tyler, begged for his attention until Tyler eventually gave it. Tyler tells Jamie that her name is Luna.

(When Jamie asked how he knew that Luna was a she, Tyler said, “I have a sense for that shit,” and Jamie laughed for days about it).

Jamie’s interrupted from his train of thought as Tyler opens the front door, a cacophony of voices following him into his house.

“Listen, just stop being a bitch,” Tyler hisses, turning to look at Jordie. “It’s a simple job. I don’t understand why you can’t do it.”

“You want me to drive to St. Louis, burn down one of Tarasenko’s buildings, and drive home,” Jordies hisses.

“It’s a simple arson,” Tyler argues, walking straight into his kitchen. He pulls out a bowl, followed by a container of blueberries out of the refrigerator. He pours them into the bowl, pops a few into his mouth before throwing away the plastic. “I don’t see whats so hard about arson. We were right fucking there, too.”

Jamie shakes his head. “Why do we need to do that, Ty?”

“Because fuck Vladimir, that’s why Jamie,” Tyler replies, shaking his head. “He’s a cock. I should’ve just cut his throat when I was in New York.”

Jamie turns to look at Tyler. “That’s not reason to burn down one of their warehouses.”

“To you,” Tyler grumbles. “Hey, anyone heard from Sid? I need more percocet.”

Jordie shakes his head, and Jamie smiles. He doesn’t remember what it was like to be without Tyler.

“No seriously, like, I’m out,” Tyler continues. “Fuck Dallas and people’s need for it, I need my perc.”

Jamie shakes his head. “Think you need to cut back, bud.”

“Think you need to mind your fuckin’ business, Bennie.”

 

The next morning, Tyler’s dipping pieces of bread in milk. He’s contemplating going running around the neighborhood, decides that he doesn’t want to piss his legs anymore than he already has. He plays with his Saint Jude pendant, silently prays to Saint Jude, prays that the Saint sends healing his way during this time.

Lord knows, Tyler needed some fucking healing.

Tyler’s finishing his milk when he catches Jordie coming into his house. 

"You’re going back to Boston," Jordie says, clapping his hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “Family reunion.”

Tyler looks at Jordie as if the smaller man had two heads; he had expected at _least_ a couple days before Jamie was going to send him out on a job.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tyler says, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Why?"

"You have history, and Jamie doesn’t want this to be fucked up," Jordie replies easily.

Tyler shakes his head, tries not to be surprised. Business was business. He goes to respond when Oleksiak comes down the stairs with Sebastian with a worried look in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Tyler asks, an overwhelming urge to take Sebastian away from Oleksiak building in his chest.

“Feel his neck,” Oleksiak says, holding Sebastian out to Tyler.

Tyler gently moves his fingers along Sebastian’s neck.

“That doesn’t feel right to you, does it?” Oleksiak asks, looking at Tyler.

Tyler shakes his head, taking Sebastian from Oleksiak.

“No. It doesn’t,” Tyler agrees. “It feels hard.”

“That’s what I thought. I just noticed it,” He replies. “What should we do?”

Tyler waits, contemplating.

“Listen, I have to go talk to Jamie. After, I’ll come back, and me and you will go to Boston.”

“Why not take him to a doctor here?” Oleksiak asks.

“He’s seen a doctor at Mass General before. I feel more comfortable with the doctors there rather than the doctors here, yeah?”

Oleksiak nods. “I’ll go pack.”

Jordie watches Oleksiak walking away.

“You’re taking the kid?” Jordie whistles. “Dangerous business.”

“Don’t act like you know anything about me, or Seb, or even Boston for that matter,” Tyler bites back.

“I’m just saying. I wonder what the kids mom would want.”

Tyler’s hands grip the counter, knuckles white. “I really don’t think that is any of your goddamn business.”

Jordie chuckles, shaking his head. “Who is his mother? Some piece of ass you left in Boston?”

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Tyler growls, pointing towards the door.

Jamie comes into his office less than an hour later Jordie leaves. Tyler’s in the middle of looking at the operation costs of the bar while he was gone when Jamie clears his throat.

Tyler really wishes that his office had a fucking door that locked. 

"Got any news?" Tyler asks, raising his eyebrows.

The tension is palpable. 

"No, but you do," Jamie says.

"Fucking Christ," Tyler says, leaning back in his chair. 

"You're sending me on a road trip, aren’t you?" Tyler hisses. “To Boston.”

"Jordie must’ve told you," Jamie tells him. "We might have found a loophole in the tax that Boston impose on our shipments."

"So when am I going?" Tyler asks, rubbing his forehead. 

"Tomorrow," Jamie says. 

Tyler laughs as he says, "God, this is going to be a cluster fuck."

"Hopefully not. That’s why I’m sending you," Jamie replies. “You know Boston still, right?"

Jamie turns his sharp gaze on Tyler, who resists the urge to duck. Jamie’s glare had always shook Tyler to the core.

"Yeah, " He says. "Like the back of my hand."

Jamie nods. "You'll be heading out early tomorrow morning. Standard shit. No blood."

"Yeah, Jamie," Tyler says, fighting to keep the irritation out of his voice. “I know. I don’t need you to tell me how to run a job," Tyler hisses. "Especially not in Boston. Especially not in my goddamn house."

"You still work for me," Jamie replies. "Things will be done as I wish."

Tyler rolls his eyes puts his hands on his desk. "Okay, yeah. Whatever Jamie."

 

He wishes that his office had a door that Jamie could slam as he leaves. He hates himself for having soft close doors installed throughout to house.

Tyler doesn’t waste any time, calls Kesler in Vancouver.

“Everything good?” Ryan answers, out of breath.

“I need a favor, actually.”

He listens as Kes excuses himself, moves into another room. “What’s going on?”

“Bennie wants me to go to Boston on business. Something’s wrong with Sebby, and I need someone with me when I go to see Patrice.”

“I’m close to you right now, actually,” Ryan replies. “I’m in St. Louis to meet with Pietrangelo. Come pick me up, and we’ll go.”

Tyler groans. “I’ll get shot if they see me. Tarasenko and I aren’t on good terms.”

“You’re not on good terms with a lot of people; it’s never stopped you before. Just come pick me up, Tyler.”

 

Tyler feels uneasy driving into St Louis, feels even worse knowing that he has to go directly to Pietrangelo’s house to get Kesler. Having Oleksiak was a small blessing, at least if something went wrong Tyler knew Sebastian would be okay.

The house that Ryan sends him to is a spitting image of Jamie’s, red brick staring at him as he parks in the driveway. Ryan has the decency not to make Tyler get out of the car, comes out with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He smiles at Tyler as he throws his bag in the trunk, and gets into the passenger seat.

“Get a new car, Seggy?” Ryan laughs, looking around inside Tyler’s white Mercedes S-class.

Tyler nods as he throws it into reverse. “I like my cars, you know how it is.”

Ryan turns to look in the back seat, jumps when he sees Oleksiak sitting next to Sebastian’s car seat.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Ryan swears. “Sorry, man. Ryan Kesler.”

Oleksiak nods. “Jamie Oleksiak.”

“New to the business?” Ryan asks conversationally.

Jamie shakes his head. “Not really. I’m just here for the kiddo.”

Ryan nods. “How’re you holding up?”

Tyler doesn’t need to look at the other man to know that Kesler’s looking at the portion of his scar that peeks out from beneath his shirt.

“Yeah,” Tyler replies. “Been worse, been better. You know how it is.”

He doesn’t add that he doesn’t feel safe traveling by himself. He doesn’t say that he’s glad Ryan and Oleksiak are coming with him because he doesn’t know who he can trust anymore, but he knows that Ryan Kesler would die before betraying him.

“But, yeah, I’m doing okay.”

 

They switch off every couple hours, napping while the other drives, so that they can make the drive straight through. Ryan makes them stop to eat twice; Tyler wasn’t too good at listening to his body these days.

By the time the pair reaches Boston's city limits, all Tyler can hear is screams and he can’t shake the memories of blood drying on his skin. 

"I hate this city," Ryan says, snapping Tyler out of his thoughts.

Tyler smiles, "I figured."

"I’m confused," Ryan says, staring straight ahead. “Do you miss it?”

Tyler pauses before he answers. "No. Well, fuck, I don't know."

They drive along without speaking for a while longer, and then Tyler’s phone rings. He answers. He puts it on speaker.

"Hey Segs," Colton says.

"What do you need kid?" Tyler replies, looking at Kesler.

"So, we got a report from the guys out in Pitt that Boston knows that you’re coming," He replies.

Tyler groans.

He fucking knew Saint would find out. 

"You're kidding," Ryan hisses. "Do they think it’s just you?"

“Who’s with you?” Colton hisses. “I thought Jamie sent you alone.”

“None of your business. Do they think it’s just me?”

"I don’t know, and I don’t know what Saint’s going to do, but I know he’s not going to let this go,” Colton states, like he’s some kind of goddamn authority on anything and everything relating to Patrice Bergeron. 

Tyler rubs his head. "Listen, it’ll be fine. Let me deal with Patrice."

Colton hangs up without another word. Tyler wants to chuck his phone out the window. He wants to turn around and go back to Dallas. He wants to go back home to Toronto, get his mom and sisters, and fly to a new country with new beginnings; somewhere they can all start over, and not have to constantly look over their shoulders. 

"Well, fuck," Ryan says, running his fingers through his hair. "This is going to get exciting."

"I hate exciting," Tyler grumbles.

“It’ll be okay, Tyler,” Oleksiak comforts. “Listen, we’ll get Seb to the doctor, and you’ll get the meeting over, and we’ll be out of here.”

His head is pounding. The bottle of percocet in his glove box becomes more and more tempting with every passing second; he has to force himself away from his glove box.

“Wait, what the fuck is wrong with Sebby?” Ryan hisses, looking at Tyler.

“His neck doesn’t feel right,” Tyler replies. “It just doesn’t sit right with me.”

Ryan nods. “Who is staying with him?”

Tyler motions back to Oleksiak. “Oleksiak will. He helps me out with him in Dallas. Sebby’s comfortable with him.”

Ryan nods.

"Okay, new plan," Ryan finally says confidently. "While Big Rig and Sebby are at Mass General, why don’t we just fuck around until they notice? What’s the worst that could happen? As long as Saint hasn’t told them to kill us, we should be fine."

"Yeah, that works. Just keep an eye out, though. Don't go looking for trouble," Tyler reminds. "They’re all fucking crazy."

Tyler pauses for a moment. “Are you going to be okay at the hospital by yourself?” Tyler asks, looking back towards Oleksiak.

He nods, looking towards Sebastian. “I’ll be okay. Anything I need to know though?”

“Tell them that you’re one of Seguin’s boys, and that you’re bringing Sebastian Brown in for Doctor Kutsman. If they try to argue you,” Tyler continues, reaching for his wallet. He pulls out a business card, handing it back to Oleksiak. “Give this to them. They’ll know.”

He nods, putting the card in his wallet. “Sebastian Brown?”

“That’s,” Tyler sighs. “It’s a long story.”

Oleksiak doesn’t respond, and Tyler’s thankful for that.

Tyler feels his heart drop when they come to a stop. He fucking hates this city, hates being a foreigner in a place he used to call home. 

"Here we are," Ryan says, putting the car in park. Tyler looks at the window, notices that they’re at the hotel Jamie had booked for him. He feels a wave of nostalgia crash into his chest, taking his feet out from under him.

Tyler doesn’t look at Ryan as he asks, "Where will you be?"

"You think I rode all the way up here to let you fuck off? I’m doing reconnaissance with you." 

Tyler smiles. “Throw it in park. Oleksiak, take the car to Mass Gen. Keep me up to date on everything.”

Oleksiak nods. “I promise I will, Ty.”

Tyler hops out of his car and stretches. His shoulder aches as he forces it through the motions. He really fucking hated the cold springs that Boston had; they never failed to make his shoulder muscles tighten up to the point of near paralyzation. 

He knows that he and Ryan are playing a dangerous game, that their presence back in Boston was not welcomed with open arms and that it never would be. He knew that this was an invitation to kill him, and he knew that Jamie was well aware of that, but had still made him come up here.

Tyler’s convinced that Jamie didn’t understand Mafia politics.

Or, maybe Jamie did, and this was his way of punishing Tyler for fucking Ovechkin for four days while they were stuck at Apalachin.  
The first bar Tyler tries is one that he knows Brad used to frequent; it was a small hole in the wall place, close to the edge of where the Boston family's influence begins. Nobody in there looks too familiar, so the pair moves on.

It's a chilly afternoon for a walk, snow gently falling onto the city. He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and wanders east. A few times, he thinks he's being watched, but nothing too serious. Nothing that Tyler didn’t expect.

“Man, fuck this city,” Ryan murmurs. “I feel like a fish in a barrel.”

Tyler nods, because he can’t disagree. This whole thing feel like a trap, like Tyler’s being setup to be a casualty of the long running war between all of the Families. 

The second bar is in the middle of Boston territory. He and Ryan duck towards the back, look around the bar. Ryan spots Tuukks and Kruger almost immediately, tells Tyler that they’ve been spotted. Tuukks stares at Tyler entirely too long for comfort, talking in rapid, hushed tones to Kruger. He knows that by the time he leaves this bar, everyone in the Boston Family will have confirmation that he’s in Boston with Kesler, and they’ll have the direction he’s traveling in. Tyler winks at the pair before they leave. 

“Let’s split up,” Tyler suggests. “You can head up to Mass General. It’s not a far walk from here.”

“Fuck yeah,” Ryan replies. “Meet back at the hotel?”

Tyler nods. “Keep me up to date.”

Ryan promises that he will, but he runs off in the direction that they had come. Tyler prays that Ryan doesn’t cause any issues, prays that he didn’t sign his death warrant by sending him away.

Tyler’s less than a block away from the bar when he hears footsteps following behind him. They’re the same as his, steady trailing right behind. The adrenaline spike makes him smile.

After another few steps, he stops mid-stride.

A body runs into him, and Tyler growls, "Are you trailing me?"

When he sees that it’s Brad, Tyler’s convinced the universe fuckng loathes him, or that Saint Michael has decided that Tyler is a lost cause and no longer cares whether or not he lives or dies.

At this point, Tyler didn’t care either.

"I was," Brad says, after the longest moment of Tyler's life. "But now we’re going to walk together to my house."

He should really argue, knows that this isn't going anywhere good.

With Brad, nothing ever went according to plan.

Tyler wants to laugh, this reminds him of the numerous times that he and Marchy would go to foreign cities, and their plans would self destruct in front of their faces.

A part of Tyler misses those days.

“Okay.”

Tyler hates that he still trusts Brad with his life, hates that Brad still made him feel like he joined the Family as a teenager, hates that Brad knows Tyler will follow him anywhere. He knows that Brad will do the same for him; he had proven it after their many escapes to Canada when Tyler was younger and needed isolation from the Family.

Brad actually smiles at him, shows teeth. Tyler follows Brad through Boston, through twists and turns of the city before Brad starts heading down the alley behind his house. Tyler's about to say something snide about being able to find the alley behind Brad’s apartment building on his own when Brad steps in front of the same black back door in the brick and pries it open with his fingertips. 

"Can't afford doorknobs still?" Tyler jokes. “You would think a Family that brings in over a million a year would be able to.”

"We don't want just anybody knowing how it works," Brad says smugly. "You know how we are, don’t you? You haven’t forgot, have you?"

Tyler nods. Brad smiles, grabs Tyler’s wrist, drags him inside by the wrist. It's pitch dark.

Tyler hears another door open, and Brad shoves him through it. Tyler recognizes the lobby of the apartment building. Brad pushes the button for the elevator, stares at Tyler while they wait. Brad’s eyes are dark, and he can’t help the warmth that spreads throughout his body.

"Bringing me home again?" Tyler asks, eye focused on Brad. "Never thought that would happen again."

"Got a better idea?" Brad retorts, laughing. "God, Tyler. Not all of us have a sex cabin in Saskatchewan."

“First of all, fuck you it’s not a sex cabin,” Tyler replies. “Second of all, fuck you.”

The elevator dings, and Tyler’s pressing the button for the sixteenth floor before Brad can.

“Eager?” Brad quips.

Tyler doesn’t reply, shrugs instead. It’s a short ride to the sixteenth floor, an even shorter walk to Brad’s apartment. Brad’s fumbling with the keys, finally manages to unlock his door, and shove Tyler into his apartment. From what Tyler can see, it hasn't’t changed. There’s still random hockey posters on the walls, the line of empty liquor bottles on the top of the cabinets in the kitchen. Everything looks out of place, which probably meant it was exactly where Brad could find it.

“Like old times?” Tyler asks, putting his hands into his pant pockets.

Brad nods. “That’s what I was thinking why Saint told us you were on the way.”

Brad drags Tyler down the hallway by his hand, and into his bedroom. They both make quick work of taking their clothes off, throwing them into a pile at the end of the bed.

Brad lays on the bed first, and Tyler takes the opportunity to straddle Brad’s waist. For a moment, all he wants to do is stare. Brad's nose is still swollen, he's blushing, and he looks so damn good. Then Brad starts to smile again, so Tyler grinds their hips together hard.

Tyler decides in that instant that he misses Boston, because Boston meant Brad, and Tyler would never be able to give up Brad. Tyler had knew that since the first time they were in Saskatchewan together. He supposes he has Saint to thank for that. 

Brad groans and pulls Tyler's head down by his neck. Tyler’s scar is warm when Brad’s hand gently lands on it. He's expecting a kiss, but instead Brad bites down his neck. Tyler had always loved being with Brad in every sense. None of this should be hot but Tyler knew that his dick didn't agree with him; it's all he can do not to come right then.

He pulls away,  bites down on Brad’s neck. Brad moans as Tyler’s tasting salt, feeling Brad's muscles twitch under his lips. When Brad grabs Tyler’s ass in both hands, the friction is amazing, and way too soon, he's coming with Brad's tongue in his mouth and Brad's blood under his nails, and Brad's come on his thighs.

Tyler’s phone begins to ring, and he’s up off of the bed, digging in his pants pocket.

“Hello?”

“You need to get to Mass General,” Oleksiak says, voice somber.

“What’s wrong with Sebby?” Tyler asks, causing Brad to sit up. “Put Yulya on the damn phone.”

There’s some shuffling until Tyler hears, “Yes, Tyler?”

“ _Yulya. What’s wrong with my son?_ ” Tyler asks, the Russian flowing flawlessly.

He hears some more shuffling before the doctor replies, “ _Tyler, I would much rather tell you in person. It’s not good._ ”

Tyler sighs, rubbing his neck. “ _I’ll be on my way soon._ ”

Doctor Kutsman hums before hanging up.

“What’s wrong with Seb?” Brad asks, watching Tyler quickly pull his clothes.

Tyler shrugs. “I don’t know. I have to go there right now.”

“Let me take you,” Brad offers. “It’ll be quicker.”

Tyler nods, watches as Brad hurriedly gets dressed, and grabs his car keys. Tyler can’t quite quell the tightness in his chest, can’t get over the somberness of the call.

“Come on,” Brad ushers, pulling his shoes on. “I’ll call Saint on the way. Get you some extra men at the hospital.”

Tyler shakes his head, following Brad through his apartment. “I’m just fine with the men I have. Saint doesn’t need to know anything yet.”

“Suit yourself.”

The pair of men are silent as they ride down the elevator, silent as they walk to Brad’s car, silent on the ride to Mass General. Tyler’s thighs are heavy with anxiety, his shoulders tense.   
“I don’t like this,” Tyler states, voice small as Brad pulls into the parking ramp.

“What did Kutsman say?”

Tyler shrugs. “That it’s not good. That’s about it.”

“Saint said Kutsman is always cautious with his kids,” Brad replies. “Maybe it’s the same thing?”

“I fucking hope so,” He replies, rubbing his face. “Sebby is all I have left.”

“I know, Ty. I know.”

Just as Brad pulls into a parking spot, Tyler’s phone begins to ring.

“Seguin.”

“Are you here yet?” Oleksiak asks. “Doctor Kutsman keeps asking.”

“Tell her I’m on the way. What room are you in?”

Oleksiak tells him the unit, and the room number before he hangs up. Tyler slams his head against the headrest a few times, groaning. Brad remains silent, letting Tyler do what he needs to do to prepare himself for what he’s walking into. It’s ten minutes until Tyler sighs, opening his door.

“Come on. We can’t keep Kutsman waiting all day.”

Brad must agree, nodding and following Tyler out of the car. Tyler sighs again, releasing the stress out of his shoulders, even if temporarily. Brad’s silent as Tyler leads them into the building, smiling at nurses, and doctors as they pass by. He’s surprised he still knows this hospital like the back of his hand, even more surprised that he feels safer with Brad trailing him; almost as if nothing had ever changed. Tyler’s shoulders are tight again as he pushes open the doors leading into the pediatric unit, looking for room 587.

He hates the sterile white, hates the smell of sickness mixed with rubbing alcohol in the hallways, hates seeing other children in their hospital beds, unhappy looks on innocent faces. He pauses as he comes up to 587, takes a deep breath when he sees that the window looking into the room is covered with a curtain. Tyler takes another deep breath before he gently pushes open the door, and steps into the room.

Oleksiak, and Ryan are perched on either side of the bed; Tyler’s never seen a hospital bed with bars high on either side, but he supposes that it would be the bed for a child. As Tyler comes further into the room, he feels his stomach drop as he sees the myriad of tubes, and wires coming from Sebastian’s body.

“What the fuck?” Tyler asks, voice soft.

“Doctor Kutsman had to go check on other patients,” Oleksiak replies.

Tyler walks closer to the bed, coming to stop at the foot of the bed.

“Has she said anything?” Brad asks, looking at Ryan.

“She told us she can’t. We’re not parents,” Ryan replies. “My Russian’s a little dusty, but I think she mentioned an immunologist?”

“What the fuck would he need an immunologist for?” Tyler asks. “His immune system is fine.”

The door swings open, and Tyler sighs as Yulya walks into the room. She sighs when she spots Tyler.

“ _What’s going on_?” He asks. “ _What’s all of this_?”

“I’m going to need you three to leave the room for a moment,” She states, looking at Oleksiak, Ryan, and Brad. “There’s coffee at the nurses station.”

“I would feel more comfortable if I could stay,” Brad pipes up, looking at the doctor. “You know our situation.”

“This hospital is secure, I promise,” She replies. “I need you all to step out.”

Brad nods, tapping Tyler on his shoulder as he follows Oleksiak, and Ryan out of the hospital room. Once the door clicks shut, she begins to speak.

“I authorized a MRI for him as soon as he arrived,” Doctor Kutsman starts, walking towards the computer cart hidden in the corner. “Just to make sure it wasn’t a paralyzing issue.”

Tyler nods, watching as she logs onto the laptop and pulls up the scan results. He takes in a deep breath when he notices the large white mass towards the base of Sebastian’s skull.

“Do you see that mass right there?” She asks. “From what the oncologists have told me, it’s an AT/RT tumor.”

“Tumor? As in––”

“Sebastian has a brain tumor. I’m so sorry, Tyler.”

  



	5. March (Part II)

"He has a what?" Tyler asks, heart beating out of his chest. "He came here with a stiff neck, and now you’re telling me he has a tumor?"

"Yes. We need to do some testing to figure out exactly what we’re dealing with here, but it is most definitely a tumor. Right now, it looks like an  atypical teratoid rhabdoid  tumor, or an AT/RT tumor."

Tyler can feel his hand begin to twitch, feels his heart pounding in his chest as he waits for Doctor Kutsman to continue. 

"If it’s an AT/RT tumor, then we need to act quickly. They’re typically fast growing."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Tyler groans. "Are you kidding?"

The walls begin to close in, slowly moving closer and closer with every passing moment. The sterile white reminds Tyler of Brownie’s funeral; the white casket, the white roses pushing their way to the forefront of Tyler’s thoughts. 

"Look closely," She replies, pointing at the tumor with her pen. "See how it wraps around the spine?"

Tyler nods. "What does that mean?"

"It means that it’s compressing his spinal cord. With how big this mass is, I’m surprised that he hasn’t started losing movement yet."

His phone vibrates in his pocket, but Tyler ignores it. Doctor Kutsman’s tone brings Tyler nothing comforting, instead it brings anxiety into his chest.

Tyler rubs his eyes. "So, what’s the plan here?"

Doctor Kutsman shrugs. "He’s not leaving the hospital, at least not until we have a better idea of what he’s dealing with. Tomorrow, you’ll meet with a team of oncologists, an immunologist, nutritionist, and social services to talk about your options, and everything."

"Is his medical team going to be, uh, understanding of my job?"

Doctor Kutsman chuckles, nodding. "Every doctor in this hospital is sympathetic. Don’t worry about security, either. With what we get through, uh, the donations from your organization, we have great security."

Tyler nods. "Thank you. Are you still going to be on his medical team?"

She nods again. "Of course. I know his general history, and that’s going to be monumental when discussing treatment options."

"Thank you, Yulya. For everything," He murmurs, voice soft. 

She smiles, puts a motherly hand on Tyler’s good shoulder. "I’m just doing my job, Tyler.  I’ll send your men back in."

"Thank you," He replies, walking back towards the side of the bed, so that he can lean over the bars to look down at Sebastian. 

He listens as the door opens, finds himself smiling ever so slightly when a barrage of footsteps rush into the room. Brad comes to his side, putting a hand on one of the high sides of the bed. 

"What’s wrong with him?" Brad asks, voice quiet. 

Tyler doesn’t say anything for a moment, then two, instead he takes in how Brad’s brown eyes dance with genuine concern; how it doesn’t feel like anything has changed since Tyler left Boston, how their relationship hasn’t changed a bit. 

"Sebastian has a brain tumor," Tyler finally replies, voice soft. "At the base of his skull."

"What the fuck?" Ryan hisses, walking closer to Tyler. "Like, cancer?"

Tyler nods, watching the rise and fall of Sebastian’s chest. "She said it might be AT/RT, but she’s not even sure on that."

"So when will we know more?" Brad asks.

Tyler doesn’t miss the ‘we’ Brad drops in the question, doesn’t miss how Brad seems enthralled in Tyler’s son, almost as if Brad was Sebastian’s other father; which, in a way he was. Brad had been the one to help Tyler after Brownie’s death, had been the one to allow Tyler and Sebastian to move into his home, and had been the one to always make sure that Tyler and Sebastian were okay.

Tyler shrugs. "I don’t know. In the next couple days, I think. I just don't understand, Camille had no health issues when she carried Sebastian for us. We wouldn’t have picked her if we were worried about her family history."

"Can someone explain what the fuck is going on?" Oleksiak asks, voice strained. 

Ryan and Brad take a step back as Tyler nods towards the plastic chairs, offering Oleksiak a chair. Everyone in the room takes a seat, waiting for Tyler to say something. He opens and closes his mouth, waiting for something to come out that makes sense. There was a reason that Tyler tried his damnedest not to talk about Brownie to people who didn’t know either of them personally; they never could offer Tyler anything other than glances of pity, which did nothing but make Tyler feel like a helpless widow, like a burden to those around him.

"Long story short," Tyler says, voice shaky. "I was in a relationship that started before I joined the Family, and it carried over into my time in Boston. We had a surrogate carry Sebastian for us, since neither of us could carry a child."

Tyler pauses, watches Sebastian’s chest rise and fall. 

"When I started out in the Boston Family, Saint knew that I grew up in a house where Family shit happened regularly; my dad was running Toronto at the time, and he would often bring me into meetings, negotiations, you name it. Within a couple of months of me officially joining, Saint and Zdeno decided to send me in after the Russians," Tyler says, rubbing his cheek. "Shit was horrific, Boston was at war to expand their territory, and their businesses. Everyone was taking hits from it, we were losing so many good men."

Tyler takes a deep breath in. "Brownie moved to Toronto. I wanted him out of the crossfire. We tried to distance him from the shit, plus both of our parents were living in Toronto, which was nice because I couldn’t be there for him and Seb."

Brad clasps his hand on Tyler's shoulder, squeezing enough that Tyler can feel it through all of the nerve damage. Tyler slams his eyes shut, memories rolling through his head like thunder in a summer night. The room is silent, save for the steady best of Sebastian's heart monitor.  I was on the inside for a couple months. Shit was hard; Brownie and I couldn't keep in contact, and so I had no fucking idea how either of them were doing. When I got figured out, Markov tried to kill me, and left me in the alley in Toronto. Brownie came to the hospital after I was found. The next morning, Brownie was executed; shot in the back of the head. It was supposed to be me."

"Why would someone want you dead?" Oleksiak asks, looking away from Tyler. 

Tyler shrugs, fighting the tears. "It’s a ruthless business. You take out your competitors. Just how it is."

Oleksiak nods, doesn’t look like he’s going to say anything back, so Tyler watches Sebastian’s fingers as they twitch. He takes a deep breath, dropping his head into his hands. He looks over at Brad, and Ryan before he speaks. 

"I need one of you to call Saint, the other to call Sidney. Tell them what’s going on. I’ll deal with Bennie after Saint," He states, keeping his eyes on Sebastian. "Actually. Don’t call Saint, call Ovechkin. I’ll just talk with Patrice tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" Ryan asks, looking more at Brad than Tyler.

"He probably already knows that something is going on," Brad explains. "He always makes sure that the hospital has a couple of the new guys in it, you know. Security shit. I'm sure he's been tipped off. If anything happens, I will handle it."

Ryan shrugs. "I’ll need to call the Sedins. Let them know what’s going on."

"No," Tyler replies, shaking his head. "Need to know basis. They don’t need to know yet."

"Yeah, of course. I don’t want to step on your toes here," Ryan replies. "Think Alex will come up?"

"Without a doubt," He replies, smiling. "He’s not scared of Saint, or Zdeno."

"Doesn’t make it a smart move," Brad interjects. "You might want to at least reach out to Patrice tonight, especially if Sidney’s coming up as well."

Tyler’s shoulders drop. "Yeah, but it doesn’t make sense if I’m just going to be able to see him tomorrow. You think he would send men in to kill either of them?"

Brad pauses for a moment, listens to the consistent beeping of the heart rate monitor. 

"No. Not in a hospital."

"Just, make sure that he doesn’t, yeah?" 

"For you Tyler, anything."

Tyler nods, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. He unlocks it, noticing a text from Jesse. 

_ Change of plans. Call Kuzy _

Tyler groans, bringing his hand up to rub at his forehead. He goes into his contacts, scrolls until he finds Alex’s name. He taps it, putting his phone on speaker. 

“ _ Alex, how are you _ ?” He asks, easily slipping into Russian. 

Oleksiak's the only one to look at Tyler strangely for the switch.

“ _ I’m alright _ .  _ What’s wrong _ ?  _ Aren’t you meeting with Patrice _ ?”

“ _ Seb’s in the hospital. Brain tumor. _ ”

There’s some shuffling before Alex replies. “ _ Me, and Kuzy will be there tomorrow. Want me to pick up Sidney, and Evgeni? _ ”

“ _ No, you just come. I haven’t called Sidney yet. Kuzy and I will talk when you get here. _ ”

“ _ Should I call Patrice _ ?”

“Fuck Patrice,” Tyler hisses. “ _I’ll deal with him tomorrow. Just come. I’ll have Big Rig waiting for you_.”  
He and Alex say their goodbyes, and Tyler sighs after he hangs up the phone. Brad looks expectantly at him.

“Fuck Patrice, eh?”

“What the fuck is he going to do? Have Alex killed?” Tyler rebuttals, rolling his eyes. “Even with as much as he hates Alex, that’s just bad business.”

Brad shrugs, crossing his arms. “I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”

Tyler nods, letting silence envelop the room. 

 

Brownie rolls over, opening his eyes. He smiles at Tyler, the sunlight turning his eyes into hues of a beautiful, illuminating brown with sage green and golden specks dancing throughout. Tyler smiles, moving closer to Brownie. Brownie throws his arm around Tyler, fingers trailing over Tyler’s skin. 

"Morning wifey," He murmurs. "How’d you sleep?"

Tyler yawns. "Good. Missed sleeping next to you."

"It’s been a long time," He admits, eyes flickering to Tyler’s lips. "How’s everything going?"

"Shit show," He murmurs. "As always."

"That’s never going to change. Not until we leave."

Tyler rolls onto his back, sighs. "I know. I’m trying to get us out."

"You’ve been saying that for months, Tyler. It's getting more dangerous."

"I want to leave as bad as you do. It takes time. I can’t just pull enough money for us to run away out of my ass," He snaps, rubbing his eyes. "After we leave, I'm not going to be able to get any of the money off of the books again."

"I just don’t have a good feeling right now," Brownie mutters. "I don’t know why, but I just don’t."

"Hey," Tyler whispers. "I’ll always come home to you. You know that."

"Yeah. You’re right. I’ve just been missing you alot more lately, you know how it goes."

Tyler opens his arms, letting Brownie lay on his chest. He smiles, twirling a piece of Brownie’s hair around his finger. 

"I know, boo. I missed you too."

 

"Tyler," The voice sounds far away, doesn’t sound like Brownie in the slightest. 

"Come the fuck on, how the hell do you sleep like this?"

Tyler’s eyes slide open, finds McQuaid’s face a bit too close.

"Jesus fucking  _ Christ _ ," He hisses, pushing the plastic chair back as he rubs at his eyes. "What the fuck are  _ you _ doing here?"

The sunlight pours into the room, illuminating the floating dust in the air; Tyler idly wonders who the fuck opened the blinds. 

"Saint heard that you were here. Sent me and Shawn to check it out," He replies. "What’s wrong with the kid?"

Tyler’s eyes wander towards his hands, immediately noticing a white and blue bracelet on his left wrist; when he looks at Sebastian, he can spot a similar looking bracelet wrapped around both of his tiny wrists. 

"I don’t fucking know yet," He replies, shrugging. "Where the fuck did Brad, and uh, Kessy go?" 

Shawn looks up from Sebastian. "They’re getting breakfast."

The steady beeping calms Tyler’s runaway heart, reminds him that right now, everything is okay because Sebastian is still here, still fighting as hard as he can.

Tyler nods. "Where Big Rig?"

"Who?"

"The big ass kid that was here," Tyler replies. "Kid’s like, 6’7, 260 pounds. You couldn’t miss him, even if you’re fucking blind."

Shawn and Adam both shrug, shaking their heads. Tyler groans. 

"How the fuck are you going to lose my rookie, you dickbags?" He hisses. "He’s such a good kid."

"What the fuck does he even do?" Adam asks. "Are you training him or some shit?"

"No. I recruited him to protect Sebby."

"Okay. What else does he do?"

Tyler’s eyebrows furrow. "That’s it. He doesn’t do anything else. He makes sure my child is safe, and taken care of."

"How does he get paid then?" Shawn asks. "Can’t imagine Jamie is paying him for protecting your kid?"

"I’m paying him."

"Why the fuck would you be paying him?"

"What, do you think I expect people to work for free?" Tyler asks, glaring at Shawn.

"How the fuck is watching the kid working?"

Tyler runs a hand over his face, groaning. "Just fuck off, yeah? It’s not your money, or your family."

Just as Shawn begins to open his mouth, the door swings open. Brad, Ryan, and Oleksiak are silent as they stride in, followed closely by Saint, and Zdeno. Tyler sits up, instantly wishes that he hadn’t passed out the night before in dirty, black sweatpants, and an oversized Boston University sweatshirt. It’s unsettling, he hadn’t remembered changing last night, or asking anyone to go down to the car to get his bag that he had packed.

"What are you guys doing here?" Tyler asks, standing up. "I mean, you both are more than welcome, but I thought we were meeting at your home, Saint."

Patrice shrugs, walking over to the opposite side of Sebastian’s bed. "I figured you wouldn’t want to leave him."

"I brought men," He replies. "I trust him with Kessy and Oleksiak."

Saint shrugs again, looking towards Zdeno. "He felt comfortable coming to the hospital instead. You know how he is."

Tyler nods, because he does remember Zdeno being overly cautious about leaving secured locations; he had been in the mafia too long, had seen plenty of bosses be assassinated right outside of their residence, or right outside of their businesses. He refused to put his wife, and child through that. 

"Thank you," Tyler expresses, slightly bowing his head towards Zdeno. "I’m sorry that I’m not more presentable."

Zdeno cracks a smile, looking at Brad and Kesler. "You’re sleeping in the hospital. I don’t expect a three piece suit, Tyler. It’s uncomfortable enough in here as it is."

Tyler nods, and the group of men fall silent for a moment, seemingly all looking at Sebastian’s chest rise and fall. 

"Shit’s crazy," Ryan murmurs. 

"Have the doctors been in yet?" Oleksiak asks, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall next to the door. "The nurses were in this morning."

"Not as far as I know." 

"Do you have any idea what’s going on with him?" Saint asks.

Tyler shifts on his feet, remains silent for a moment. He doesn’t want to answer, doesn’t want to speak into existence that his son might have cancer. He fiddles with his thumbs for another moment, trying to buy time. 

"He’s just sick right now," Brad rescues. "They haven’t said anything yet. Right Tyler?"

Tyler nods, thankful for Brad’s intervention. 

"Seems a little bit of overkill if the kid’s just sick," Saint continues, eyeing Tyler suspiciously.

"Well, even if I did know, it’s none of your fucking business. Are we going to talk business, or not?" 

Zdeno nods, motioning to the chairs. "Yeah, let’s talk business."

Saint nods towards the door, causing Shawn, and Adam to go stand outside of it. Oleksiak hovers around the door until Tyler motions him over to sit in the plastic chair that was empty next to him. Saint, and Zdeno settle into the maroon colored couch by the window; Tyler assumes that Brad had asked for one to be brought in, so that no one had to sleep on the floor.

"We don’t see the problem with the fees you’ve been paying," Saint says. "They’re reasonable."   


Tyler can’t help but to laugh. "Five thousand? Per shipment? C’mon Patrice. Don’t act like I’m some fucking new kid. This isn't my first time around the block."   


"You’re in fucking Texas," He hisses. "That’s a long way."   


"Yeah, but you ship to Vancouver for half," Tyler replies, pointing at Kesler. "And I know for a goddamn fact that hasn’t changed. That’s across the goddamn country. We’re in the middle. I know it’s expensive, but c’mon. Let’s be reasonable."   


Zdeno clears his throat. "We have to make money, Tyler."   


Goosebumps rise on his skin at Zee’s voice; Tyler had always hated hearing Big Zee speak because it scared the shit out of him. Not many people could scare Tyler, but Zdeno Chara was most definitely one of them. It doesn’t help that Zdeno towers above him, that Zdeno was known for being silent and killing later for the smallest transgressions.    


"So do we," Tyler replies. "You know that you have money coming in from all of the east coast still, right? Don’t make it seem like you’re going broke. It won’t work with me."   


Saint clicks his tongue. "You asked us to ship to you. If you don’t like it, find someone else."

"This is supposed to be a partnership. Give and take." Tyler leans back. "Listen. I don’t expect a big ass cut back. I’m not Jamie, I have realistic expectations. But you have to work with me on this."    


Tyler watches as Patrice contemplates what Tyler just said. He feels his nerves pulsing, feels his hands beginning to sweat. Zdeno leans over, whispers into Patrice’s ear for a moment. Tyler fold his hands in his lap, watches the Boston boys talk. Ryan’s hand moves to his left hip, looking at Tyler. Tyler shakes his head, and Ryan drops his hand back to his side. 

"Twenty percent decrease," Patrice says.    


"That’s still four grand. That’s too much," Tyler leans back, looks past Patrice. 

"I want it down to two thousand nine hundred. At least," Tyler replies, trying to get back on track. "I’d prefer to pay two thousand four hundred, though."   


"That’s way too low. Three grand," Saint says. "That’s a fair discount."   


"I’m telling you, that doesn’t work for me," Tyler replies. "I’m not afraid to go to Pittsburgh and talk to Geno. I know they’ll be reasonable, and you know how they love me down there."   


"Let’s not get wild," Patrice rushes, not missing Tyler’s reference to his time in Pittsburgh. "We provide better products than Pitt."   


Tyler shakes his head. "That’s debatable. Sidney wouldn’t cheat me, you know that. I mean, listen, I don’t care. Jamie’s not here. It’s my decision, and I’m really not afraid to jump ship. You’re not going to bully me into taking a deal that’s bad for us. I’m not Jamie, Saint."   


"Two thousand four hundred," Tyler says after a pause. "That’s as high as I can go."   


Saint cracks his fingers. "Two nine."   


Tyler shakes his head. Zdeno takes the opportunity to speak up. "Listen, it doesn’t help that you left us. You’re not popular around here."   


"Wasn’t my choice," Tyler growls. "You shipped me away. After all of the shit I did, you wanted me out. You’re not going to punish me for something I didn’t want. I never wanted to leave Boston, don’t act like I did. You let Jaro take me."

"If I shipped Burr away and he came back on business, I wouldn’t forget everything that he had done for the organization," Ryan adds from by the door. "It’s a respect thing."

"What do you think?" Saint asks, looking towards Sebastian’s bedside. "Marchy, I want to hear your opinion."

"Think we should cut them a deal,” He replies. “He’s not wrong, you know that.”

"Okay. Fucking Christ. Fine, Tyler."

"Two thousand four hundred per shipment," Tyler says, extending his hand. Patrice shakes it. 

"Don’t make me kill you, kid," Saint murmurs, looking at Tyler. "Jagr wouldn’t be happy with me if I did."

"I’m not his to protect anymore," Tyler replies easily. "What do I tell Jamie?" 

"We’ll start it on your next shipment," Saint replies. "Send my apologies for this misunderstanding, too."

"Of course. Add percocet, but don’t send it to the bar. Send it to my house. I’ll pay seperate. Don’t tell Jamie."

"You’re ridiculous," Saint sighs. "How many?"

Tyler shrugs. "Doesn’t matter. Surprise me."

Saint nods. "I can do that for you. I'll start with one fifty."

"Thank you," Tyler replies earnestly. "Thank you for everything."

Saint nods. "No problem, Ty."

The door swings open, and the men all look up to see Doctor Kutsman coming into the room, her face solemn. She looks up, scans the room before her eyes land on Saint. 

“Bad time?” She asks, looking at Tyler. 

“No, not at all,” He replies. “Just catching up.”

“Good. I need you to follow me to one of our conference rooms,” She begins. “Sebastian’s medical team is ready to meet with you.”

Tyler nods, looking at Oleksiak. Doctor Kutsman continues. “You can bring your men, or not. Completely up to you.”

Tyler stands, Saint and Zdeno follow suit. “I’ll see you both soon.”

Saint nods. “Keep me up to date, yeah?”

“Of course.”

Saint, and Zdeno head out. Tyler looks towards Brad. 

“I’ll be here when you come back. Don’t worry,” He assures. “Go figure out what the fuck is going on with your kiddo.”

“Oleksiak on me,” Tyler murmurs, nodding at Brad. “Lead the way, Doctor Kutsman.” 

She turns on her heel, striding comfortably through the endless labyrinth of halls. Various medical equipment lines some of the halls, such as vital carts, and IV poles. Tyler can’t help but to look into some of the open doors they pass, seeing both men, and women lying in hospital beds, some with family, some without. 

Oleksiak remains a steady presence behind Tyler, something that he was grateful for. On one hand he knew that he was safe in this hospital, that Saint wouldn’t allow anything to happen to him but having one of his men, one of the men he had around all the time while in Dallas, calmed his nerves. 

Doctor Kutsman leads them into some offices, before opening the door to a large conference room. A large, oval shaped mahogany table sits in the middle of the room with well cushioned black chairs situated around. Doctor Kutsman motions for Tyler to take the chair at the head on the table, while she moves to sit to his left. Oleksiak takes the seat on Tyler’s right, looking around the room. 

It’s less than a minute before the door is swinging open again, a barrage of footsteps coming into the conference room. Tyler watches them closely, watches as the doctors take a seat. Doctor Kutsman takes a seat on Tyler’s left, passing him a manila folder with Sebastian’s name on the tab. The doctors settle in, one of them opening a laptop, and mirroring her screen to the projector that hangs from the ceiling. After the screen loads, all of the doctors turn to look at Tyler. 

“As you know, I’m Doctor Kutsman, family medicine,” She begins.

They begin introducing themselves, left to right. 

“I’m David Ebb, and I specialize in pediatric brain tumors.”

“I’m Maxim Lutskiy, and I will be Sebastian’s immunologist.”

“I’m Verena Gobel. I’ll also be one of Sebastian’s oncologists.”

“Doctor Swearington, and I’m here because I specialize in spinal cord tumors.”

“Torunn Yock, radiation oncology.”

“And I am Gregory Cote. I specialize in both pediatric and adult  Chordoma.”

Tyler leans back in the chair. “Is that what we’re fighting?”

Doctor Cote shakes his head. “We aren’t sure yet. There’s a lot more testing that needs to be done. Regardless of what it is, we can start treatment.”

“What’s the options?” Tyler asks, clearing his throat. 

“Right now, we could go in and surgically remove part of the tumor. Or, we could start chemotherapy,” He replies. 

“We could also wait,” Doctor Gobel interrupts. “See what exactly we are dealing with first.”

“When are we going to know what he’s dealing with?” Tyler asks, rubbing his forehead. “Do we have any ideas? Anything at all?”

Doctor Kutsman looks towards Tyler, tries to ease the tension in his voice. “We can start running some more tests, see what we can find, but we need to talk about our options. We can see it’s around his, his spinal cord. It’s important, yeah?”

Tyler sighs. “Yeah. What would the surgery look like?”

Doctor Cote shifts. “We would open him up, and remove as much of the tumor as possible. Hopefully we would avoid having to fuse the vertebrae together.”

“Why would he need to have a fusion?”

“If removing the tumor would make his spine unstable, we would need to fuse them,” He replies. “We want to maintain the stability of the spine.”

“What’s in the future? Like, what can we do to make Sebastian the most comfortable.”

Doctor Gobels begins, “We recommend that we sedate him, and put a breathing tube in to ensure that he’s breathing properly, and getting enough oxygen. From there, I would recommend the placement of a central line port.”

“Which is?” Oleksiak asks.

“It’s basically a permanent IV. It allows us to put medicine, nutrients, and fluids straight into the bloodstream. It has other benefits as well, such as it allows us to draw blood without having to continuously poke at his veins, and if an emergency were to happen, we would be able to drain fluid if we needed.”

“Let’s do it,” Tyler agrees. “I want Sebby to be comfortable.”

The group of doctors all nod, looking toward Tyler. 

“What testing can we do? I want to know what we are dealing with,” Tyler asks, leaning back. 

“We should be able to determine what exactly we are dealing with through a lumbar puncture, and biopsy, perhaps a CAT scan. Hopefully we’ll have something by the end of the week.”

“What are you guys thinking right now?”

“Right now, it’s likely an AT/RT tumor, or a type of cancer known as Chordoma.”

“Which would give him that best chance of survival?”

Doctor Kutsman sucks on her teeth. “Neither, we don’t want it to be either.”

Tyler sighs, rubbing his temples. “Is there a world were this isn’t cancer?”

Doctor Cote clears his throat. “No. No there’s not. I’m sorry.”

Oleksiak’s hand reaches out, clasps onto Tyler’s shoulder. Tyler doesn’t need to look to know that Oleksiak’s neck is becoming rose red, doesn’t need to hear another word from anyone to know that his son, his only son is dying. 

Tyler’s head drops, and he can’t help the shaking in his hands, notices it as he brings his hands to his face. 

“Is his other parent in the picture?” Doctor Gobels asks, voice soft as she looks pointedly at Oleksiak. “It might be best to talk to the both of you at the same time.”

Tyler shakes his head. “My partner was killed, and the woman who carried him died after his birth. I’m all he has besides some uncles, and grandparents.”

Doctor Kutsman’s long, fraile fingers lay on top of Tyler’s. “We can give you some time to digest this.”

Tyler nods, standing silently. Oleksiak follows him, both white as ghosts as they weave through the hospital. He must’ve taken a wrong turn, he thinks, when he comes to stand in front of the nursery window. There’s an older woman, sitting in a wheelchair staring into the room. She looks up to Tyler, smiles ever so slightly. 

“New dad?”

He shakes his head ever so slightly, clears his throat. “No, my son’s actually here because he’s sick.”

Her smile disappears, face turning solemn. “I lost my first; he was stillborn. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry. I could never imagine.”

They stay there together for a moment, then two in silence. Oleksiak sniffles. Tyler’s hands are still shaking despite his attempts to stop. The woman goes to back away from the glass. 

“Have a good rest of your day,” Tyler murmurs, bowing his head. 

“You too.”

Oleksiak looks down at Tyler, neck still red, voice unstable, “What’re we going to do?”

“Well. I’ll call Jesse, and Freddy. I don’t know what after that, but that’s okay.”

“When do we call Jamie?”

“You know, that’s a great question,” He muses. “I just don’t know that yet.”

Oleksiak doesn’t say a word, nodding as he takes in Tyler’s words. He looks closely, notices Tyler’s eyes starting to become watery. 

“Can you go back to the room?” Tyler asks, voice soft. “I need a minute by myself.”

Oleksiak nods, before he turns, leaving Tyler alone in front of the nursery window. He ignores the footsteps of the nurses, of the parents, of the doctors, focusing on trying to control his breathing. 

He fumbles his phone out of his pocket, hands shaking as he unlocks it. He gets into his contacts, taps on his mom’s name. He brings the phone up to his ear, waits for the ringing to stop. 

“Tyler? Are you okay?”

He laughs, wiping away the tears that race down his cheeks. “Yeah mom. I’m okay this time.”

“What’s going on?” She asks. “You don’t sound well.”

“Well, uh. Actually I have some bad news,” He begins. “Sebastian, he’s. Sebby has cancer. We’re in Boston.”

“He has  _ what _ ?”

“Cancer. Brad knows. Jesse, and Freddy don’t.”

He listens as his mom breathes in slowly. “Does Alex know?”

“No. I haven’t had a chance to call Alex, or Sidney yet,” He replies. “I know I need to.”

Her voice shakes as she replies, “I’ll deal with Jesse, and Freddy, yeah? You worry about Sidney, and Alex.”

“Okay. I can do that,” He replies. “Please don’t come down yet. I’ll let you know when, okay? We don’t know enough right now.” 

She sighs. “I don’t like this Tyler. Not one fucking bit.”

“I know you don’t, but we don’t know enough. I’m trying. I have Brad, I have some of my men here right now, and Ryan’s here. I don’t know what else you want me to have. Brownie isn’t here anymore, mom.”

“You know damn well what I meant Tyler Paul Seguin. I know Brownie isn’t here anymore.”

“You know what mom, I actually have to go. I’ll talk to you later,” Tyler snips, hanging up. 

His head falls forward as he groans, feels the incoming dread of having to tell Alex, and Sidney what’s going on, of having to deal with both Jesse and Freddy when they inevitably come down to Boston. He turns away from the nursery window, staring back towards Sebastian’s room. As he walks, he taps on Alex’s contact, waiting to call him until he’s in Sebastian’s room.

Oleksiak is milling outside Sebastian’s door, phone to his ear. 

“––came up. Jamie, I don’t know where he is. I’m not his babysitter.”

There’s a pause before Oleksiak continues. “Listen, if you’re that concerned, call Tyler. Not me.”

Oleksiak hangs up, looks at Tyler. “Jamie’s pissed.”

“Of course he is. It’ll be fine,” Tyler dismisses. “Listen, I need to call Alex and Sidney. After that, I’ll call Jamie, okay?”

Oleksiak nods, following Tyler into Sebastian’s hospital room. Ryan’s leaning over the bed, looking at Sebastian as he sleeps. Brad sits in one of the hospital chairs, looks up at Tyler. He stops, sighs, and taps on Alex’s number. It doesn’t take long for the ringing to stop.

“ _ My Tyler! How are you? How is the child? _ ”

Tyler sucks on his teeth for a moment. “ _ Not good, actually. Sebby has cancer. We don’t know how bad it is yet. _ ”

“ _ You’re fucking with me, Kolya. Sebby? He’s such a healthy baby _ .”

“ _ No, I wish I was. _ ”

Alex sighs. “ _ I’m on my way. Where are you? _ ”

“ _ Boston. Brad, and Ryan are with me. I have Oleksiak too. _ ”

Alex hums. “ _ I’ll grab Kuznetsov, and be on my way. _ ”

“Call Saint. Let him know.”

Alex agrees before he hangs up. Brad looks at Tyler, smiling. “Alex coming?”

“Of course he is,” Tyler replies. “Saint’s going to need to tell his boys to play nice.”

“No promises. Especially with Ovie, you know how he is.”

Tyler nods, because he does know. He starts  towards the bed, leans against the high railing as he looks down at Sebastian. The doctors must have come in to place the breathing tube, Tyler realizes as he watches Sebastian’s chest rise and fall. His heart monitor beats steadily, something that should comfort Tyler, but instead just ramps up his anxiety. 

No one says anything, all eyes stuck on Tyler’s shaking hands, on his increasingly heavy breathing. Brad’s the first one to stand as Tyler starts to shake, strides over as Tyler turns away. Brad’s arms wrap around Tyler’s frame, rubbing soothing circles into his shoulder. Tyler’s body shakes as he embraces Brad, lets his tears fall from his eyes.

“Why did it have to be Brownie?”

“It’ll be okay, Ty. I promise.”

  
  


 

“What the fuck do you mean Ovechkin is going to Boston?” Jamie hisses, looking at Kari. “What the fuck is going on up there?”

Kari shrugs, looking over the books from the bar. “I don't know why Jamie. All I know is that he and Kuznetsov are heading there, and that Holtby and Backstrom are in charge of managing Alex’s men. Other than that, no one wants to say anything.”

Jamie groans, leaning his head back. Of course what was supposed to be a quick in and out job turned into a days long affair, with minimal contact from Tyler. 

“It doesn't make any sense. Saint and Alex aren’t on good terms, right? What the fuck am I missing here?”

Kari shrugs. “Maybe it’s Tyler related? Has he even met with Zdeno yet?”

“Oleksiak said he had. I’ve called them all, and no one will return my calls.”

Kari shrugs again. “I mean, you have Alex, Kuznetsov, Tyler, Ryan Kesler, and God knows who else all in the same city. What’s the common ?” 

“I mean, the Russian thing, but why would that mean anything now?”

“That, Jamie, is the golden question. Maybe call Sidney, he might know something.”

Jamie rubs his temples. Enough shit had been going wrong as of late, and he didn’t need this adding to it. He had the local police breathing down his neck, Modano calling almost everyday to remind Jamie that he needed to find a solution to the St. Louis problem, not to mention the looming black cloud of the federal investigation. 

“What should I do?” Jamie asks. “I’m running out of options.”

Kari leans back, bringing his pen up to his mouth. “Well, you can either fly to Boston, or you can call one of Tyler’s closest friends.”

“Jesse?” Jamie asks. “You think he would know anything?”

“It’s worth a shot, no?”

  
  


 

Tyler’s asleep on the floor next to Sebastian’s bed, arm stretched upwards to hold Sebastian’s tiny hand through the bars when the door swings open, awakening Oleksiak, and Ryan, both sitting on the couch that had been pushed against the window. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Ryan asks, rubbing his eyes. 

“Tyler called Alex, Alex called us, and now we’re all here,” Sidney replies. “How’s he holding up?”

“He went to bed late last night. He was up later than I was,” Oleksiak reports. “I don’t remember him moving to the floor.”

“Marchy been here the whole time?” Kuznetsov asks, pointing towards Brad, who’s sprawled out in one of the plastic hospital chairs positioned next to Tyler’s head. 

Oleksiak nods. “Ever since Tyler arrived.”

" _Always inseparable_ ,” Sidney jokes. “ _ Worse than Ty, and Jesse. _ ”

“ _ Remember he had Brad after Brownie, and after the Russian thing. Brad helped him, Sidney _ ,” Alex replies. “ _ He looks tired. _ ”

“He is _ , _ ” Ryan replies. “He’s been stressed out about this, about Jamie, about the investigation _. _ ”

“He hasn’t called Jamie?” Geno asks, eyebrows raising. 

Oleksiak shakes his head. “Jamie keeps calling me, and I’m running out of shit to tell him.”

Evgeni sighs. “Does his mom know? Jesse, and Freddy?”

"Jackie knows, but Jesse and Freddy? Not as far as I know,” Ryan replies. “Honestly? It’s been one big ass waiting game.” 

"Jesus fucking Christ."

  
  


 

Jamie stands in the kitchen of Tyler’s house, all the lights off. He takes a deep breath, exhales slowly as he lets the tension leave his body. He reaches behind him, turns on the kitchen lights. From what he can see, Tyler’s house is in a state of disarray, papers thrown across the counter, three M-16’s on his dining room table with enough ammunition for a small militia. Jamie sighs, leafing through the papers, looking for anything that would give him an idea of what the fuck Tyler was doing. 

It’s mostly papers from the coroner, bills from his time in the hospital, newspaper cuttings about Brownie’s death, other newspaper cuttings about unsolved murders. Jamie’s eyebrows knit together when he stumbles upon a marriage certificate from a court in Toronto.

“What the fuck?” 

Jamie shakes his head, wonders why Tyler never mentioned anything about being married. He continues to shuffle through the papers, finds another that piques his interest. Two plane tickets to New Zealand, dated for a week after Brownie was killed. 

  
  


 

“How do you guys know Tyler so well?” Oleksiak asks, looking around the room. 

Brad chuckles. “You see, that’s how we know you’re new. It’s cute.”

“Oh, be nice!” Sidney chides. 

“He started out in Boston,” Brad begins. “Some shit went down, and he fucked around, started skimming the books.”

“You knew?” Alex interrupts, looking at Brad.

He nods. “Saint did too. We knew he was skimming the books, but with everything he was doing for us, we weren’t going to say anything.”

“What was his plan?” Oleksiak asks.

“Brownie wanted out, and Tyler was going to go with him,” Sidney replies. “Brownie didn’t want Sebby around all of this.”

“Brownie didn’t like the idea of Tyler going undercover with the Russians,” Brad continues. “But Tyler knew that after, he’d be able to leave without any recourse. So he agreed to do it.”

“Why did he want out?”

“Because Brownie did. They were going to go to New Zealand, assume new identities, and leave the Family behind. When I tell you that Tyler would kill for Brownie, I mean it. You might be too new to know, but there was a kid in Toronto, Garrett Sparks, who kept giving Brownie a hard time. His torso was found floating in Don River three weeks later. They still haven’t found his arms and legs, and they’ve been looking for years.”

 

 

As Jamie ventures through Tyler’s house looking for clues, the more he finds, the more nothing makes any sense. 

Jamie stops shuffling through the papers. He stands still for a moment before he starts towards the stairs into the basement. As Jamie makes his way down the stairs, he can’t help but wonder why Tyler’s never said anything about Brownie, never said anything about how Sebastian came about. 

Jamie turns on the light once he reaches the bottom of the stairs. His jaw drops when he sees three duffle bags overflowing with kilos of cocaine on the floor by the foot of the stairs. He ventures further into the basement, finding another large, circular table covered with more military grade weapons, along with a note.

_ Remember to call jagr abt investigation _

It’s Tyler’s scrawled writing; Jamie wonders how Tyler found out about the investigation before he had. The more Jamie noses around, the more shit he finds that doesn’t add up. Dozens of seemingly unopened bottles of percocet, notes scrawled in Russian, two golden rings. Jamie makes his way into the back room, pushing open the door. He’s stopped in his tracks when he sees a map of North America, with pins stuck in various cities, strings attaching some. 

Jamie studies it for a moment, before he finds a notebook thrown carelessly on the floor in front of the map. As he reads through the list of names next to their respective cities, it doesn’t take Jamie long to figure out what he’s looking at. 

 

 

Tyler begins to stir, groaning as the bright sunlight burns his eyes as they slide open. He raises his head slightly, looking towards the group of men.

“ _ Sasha, why the fuck did you bring Sid, and Geno _ ?” Tyler hisses, motioning to the group of men. “ _ Have you even called Saint? _ ”

Alex shrugs, a smile coming across his face. “Come now, don’t act like you don’t need the support.”

Sidney nods, looking towards the bed. “What’s going on with him, exactly?”

“ _ Cancer. They’re not sure what kind yet. There’s a tumor at the base of his skull. _ ”

“ _ Have you called Jamie? Or Jesse, and Freddy? _ ”

Tyler shakes his head, causing both Sidney and Geno sigh. 

“You have to tell Jamie,  _ Kolya _ .”

“I’ve elected not to do that, Geno.”

“Tyler Seguin.”   


“Evgeni Malkin.”

Oleksiak clears his throat. “I’m running out of shit to tell him. He keeps calling me.”

Tyler grabs one of the bars on Sebastian’s bed, pulls himself up. His other hand comes up to rub at his eyes, leaning his neck side to side in an attempt to relieve some of the tightness. 

“ _ You need to call him, Kolya _ ,” Sidney murmurs.

The Russian makes Tyler feel at ease, something he wasn’t sure he would ever experience again. 

“I know, I know I do.”

  
  


 

“Sidney’s in Boston?” Jamie asks, dropping his head onto his desk. “Come on, you’re fucking with me, right?”

“No, I’m serious. Sidney, and Evgeni left earlier,” Marc-Andre replies. “They hopped on a plane to Boston, didn’t give a reason.”

“What the fuck do you mean they didn’t give you a reason? What the fuck do you even do?” 

“Sidney is the boss. He says jump, I jump. He says fuck off, I fuck off. As a consigliere that’s my job.”

Jamie groans. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Listen,” Flower hisses. “If you’re that fucking worried about Seguin, call Saint directly. Jesus Christ, don’t be a fucking dumbass Jamie. Or just go to fucking Boston yourself. I shouldn’t have to tell you this shit.”

Jamie’s met with dial tone before he can respond. He slams his phone down, runs his hands over his face. He’s tired of the dead ends, tired of the radio silence from someone who was supposed to be his right hand man. 

After a few moments, Jamie picks up his head, and unlocks his cell phone. He taps on Jason’s name, waits for him to answer. 

“Get Jordie. We’re going to Boston tonight.”

 

 

" _ Are _ _ you still looking for Markov?"  _ Kuznetsov asks _ ,  _ looking out of the window.

" _ Of course I am,”  _ Tyler replies. “ _ But, there’s more important shit going on. _ ”

" _ He's stateside _ ."

Tyler's eyes snap up. " _ Where _ ?"

Kuznetsov doesn’t look at Tyler as he speaks. “ _ He flew into New York. I know some of his men are in Boston right now _ .”

“ _ I know what the fuck you’re thinking, and I’m telling you no _ ,” Alex chimes in, wrapping his fingers around Tyler’s wrist. “Not now, not with everything going on.”

Tyler sighs, groaning. “If he’s close, I mean.”

“Sebastian needs you more than you need Markov’s head right now,” Ryan chimes in, rolling his eyes. “C’mon. You haven’t even told Jamie what’s going on, and now you want to take off the head of the Russian Mafia?”

Tyler doesn’t reply for a moment, thinks over what he wants to say. 

“Listen, I made a promise to Brownie, and I’m not going to break it.”

The room falls silent. 

“You’re not breaking it,” Brad speaks up. “He would want you to take care of Sebastian right now.”

  
  


 

“Jamie, don’t you think this a little overboard?” Jordie asks, rushing to keep up with his brother as they make their way through the airport. “He’s probably fucking Marchand, or some stupid shit.”

“Well if he’s fucking Brad he should have at least called by now. It’s been over twenty four hours.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Jesus, when does Tyler ever fucking answer his phone? Why are we flying to Boston when we can just call Saint?”

Jamie doesn’t answer; he doesn’t want to tell either of them that he went through Tyler’s house, doesn’t want to speak of what he found, doesn’t want to speak of the distant bad feeling his has floating around in the back of his head. 

“I just want to be in Boston,” He reasons. 

Jordie’s eyebrows raise at his brother’s tone. “Worried?”

Jamie doesn’t answer.

  
  


 

As the day turns to night,  and the hospital quiets down, Alex and Sidney finally convince Tyler to leave Sebastian for the night, that leaving Ryan, Kuznetsov, and Oleksiak with Sebastian would be just fine. Alex holds Tyler’s hands are the group exits, pretends that Tyler’s shoulders aren’t diving in on themselves, pretends that this Tyler is the normal Tyler he’s used to seeing. Evgeni and Alex share a look, nodding in agreement that something needs to be done. 

Tyler’s silent as they all pile into Brad’s Escalade, silent as Brad drives the group through Boston on his way to his apartment. Sidney’s hand finds Tyler’s, but it takes less than a second for Tyler to pull his hand away, balling it up in his lap. Sidney looks over to Alex, eyes full of concern. Alex shrugs, and Sidney sighs in defeat. 

Alex taps Tyler’s shoulder as Brad shifts into park, smiling slightly at the younger man. 

“Perk up. We will have a good time.”

Tyler chuckles at the innuendo. “ _ Isn’t it always with you _ ?”

“I may not speak Russian, but there will be no sex talk in this car,” Brad replies. “It’s new. Don’t soil it already.”

Tyler laughs, full bodied and real; a sound that Alex never would have thought would bring him this much relief.   

“Fuck off, Marchy. You can’t lie and say you haven’t gotten some ass in this backseat,” Tyler says as he wiggles his eyebrows. “I remember all the little women that would just follow your ass around everywhere.”

“You were worse than me,” He replies, laughing. “You would chase more tail than a damn dog.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Tyler replies, following Alex’s lead. 

As Tyler slides out of the back seat, all he can smell is stale cigarettes, and vodka. He can distantly hear someone yelling him in English, but his head pounds with loud Russian. He can hear the sound of bullets hitting the ground, glass shattering as he tries to hide his head from, from something?

“Hey, hey, hey. This is Boston, yeah?” Alex, at least Tyler thinks it’s Alex, soothes. “Remember? Boston. Safe here, Tyler.”

“It’s Alex, Sidney, Evgeni, and Brad. There’s no one else around us. It’s 11:43 at night on March 22nd, 2015. We’re at Brad’s apartment, in downtown Boston,” Sidney reassures, frantically rubbing circles into Tyler’s shoulders. 

Tyler doesn’t stop hyperventilating for a moment, then two. He blinks hard, confused as to why he’s squatting down leaning against Brad’s car with Brad’s face hovering right in front of his. 

“Are you back?” He asks, eyes darting all over Tyler’s face. 

Tyler nods after a moment, looks down at the pavement before he lets Sidney help him stand. He stumbles, but Sidney catches him before he can fall again. 

“Geno, help me,” Sidney mumbles over his shoulder. 

Tyler stands up straight when Geno takes Tyler’s other elbow, steadying him as much as he can be. 

“I don’t,” Tyler begins. “I don’t know what the fuck that was.”

“Shush, let’s talk about it upstairs, yeah?” Brad replies. “Just focus on getting upstairs. Easy?”

And Tyler thinks he can do that, so he nods, shutting his mouth as he focuses on putting one foot in front of another. He keeps his head down, tries to avoid making eye contact with anyone as he follows Brad and Alex, with Sidney and Geno flanking his sides. He can’t help the anxiety rising in his chest at his back being exposed, but he tries to quell it by reminding himself that this is a safe place for him, that there is no need to have his back covered by someone. 

He pretends that he doesn’t jump when the elevator dings, that he doesn’t see Alex flinch when the elevator briefly jumps before starting its journey upward. When  Sidney reaches for Tyler’s hand for the second time, Tyler lets him take it; he can remember when Sidney and Evgeni were both cornered in an elevator by Russian AK’s in Pittsburgh by Philadelphia, and if it hadn’t been for Marc-Andre that they would both be dead. 

There’s a collective sigh of relief when the elevator doors slide open.

It doesn’t take long to get into Brad’s apartment, takes even less time for Tyler to make himself at home on the couch. 

“You need to start seeing someone for your PTSD again,” Sidney states, sitting down across from Tyler. 

“And you need to mind your own goddamn business,” Tyler hisses. “Practice what you preach, and I might consider it.”

  
  


 

“Do you even know where the fuck to start looking for him?” Jason asks as they walk through the Boston Logan International Airport. “He knows Boston better than you ever could.”

Jamie shrugs as he rubs at his eyes. “I already have a plan, just trust me. Jesus Christ.”

He pulls out his cell phone, goes into his recent calls, and taps on Oleksiak’s name. The phone rings for a couple moment before a groggy Oleksiak answers. 

“Hi boss.”

“I’m in Boston. Where are you, and don’t fucking lie to me.”

Jamie can hear some shuffling, some swearing in the background. “Why the trip? Everything okay?”

“Jamie Oleksiak, I asked you a fucking question. Where the fuck are you?”

He sighs. “Mass General. Just, Jesus Christ. Me and Ryan’ll meet you in front of the emergency room entrance.”

“Be there in fifteen.”

Jamie hangs up, looking towards Jordie. 

“Looks like we’re going to Mass Gen.”

“Who’s in Mass Gen?” Jason asks. 

Jamie shrugs. “Guess we’re about to find out.”

  
  


 

Sidney hands Tyler his phone. 

“It’s Oleksiak.”

Tyler groans, putting his beer down before pressing the green button.

“Everything okay?” Tyler asks, rubbing his eyes. 

There’s a pause. “Uh. Yes, but no. Jamie’s in Boston. He’s on his way to Mass General.”

He darts up. “What the fuck do you mean?”

“I mean Jamie called me and basically told me he’d be at Mass General in fifteen minutes about five minutes ago,” Oleksiak explains. “So, what the fuck do you want me to say?”

“Fucking Christ. Just tell him you don’t know where I went, and for the love of all things that are Holy, do not mention that Ryan, Alex, Kuzenstov, Sidney, and Evgeni are here.”

“Well, about that. I might have accidentally tell him that Ryan is here with me.”

Tyler groans again. “Okay, me and you need to have a serious conversation about what Jamie can and cannot know. Jesus. Just tell him you don’t know anything.”

“He won’t kill me?”

“Well if he does, it’ll be after he kills me, so here’s hoping,” Tyler replies before hanging up. 

Tyler tosses his phone onto the coffee table. “Jamie’s in Boston.”

“For fucking what?” Geno hisses, standing up to go get a second beer. “You don’t need a babysitter.”

“He’s not going to be able to find me,” Tyler dismisses. “Boston’s huge.”

  
  


“Calm down, Jamie,” Jordie hisses. “The kid didn’t do anything. He’s only doing what Tyler told him to.”

“Well he’s going to tell me what the fuck I need to know,” Jamie hisses. “I can't believe this. I sent him here for goddamn business! And he’s just fucking around, probably fucking his way through his old family.”

“Calm down,” Jason replies. “I’m sure there’s a valid reason behind all of this. Just fucking listen for once, would you? I know you’ve heard the same stories I have about Seggy. There’s always a reason, it just doesn’t always make sense.”

Jamie’s grip tightens on the steering wheel before he grits out, “He doesn’t work for himself anymore. That shit doesn’t fly with me.”

“Did you even call Saint? Does anyone from the Boston family know that we’re here?” Jordie asks. “If they’re anything like us, this hospital will be the most secure area in the whole goddamn city.”

Jamie’s silent, and Jordie knows. 

“You didn’t call anyone?” He hisses. “Are you fucking dumb? So what are you going to tell their men? ‘Listen, don’t shoot me, even though no one but Oleksiak knows that me and these two came to Boston’? I’m sure that’ll work.”

“Just shut the fuck up, Jordie. I’m tired of hearing you,” He replies, rolling his eyes as he pulls into the emergency room parking at the hospital. Jamie can see two figures sitting on a bench in front of the doors. 

“Don’t yell at the kid,” Jason reminds. “He’s just doing what Tyler told him to.”

Jamie nods as he turns the car off, opening his door. He doesn’t bother waiting for either of his men, making a beeline straight for the bench.

“Where the fuck is Tyler?” He asks, coming to a stop in front of Oleksiak. “And why the fuck is he here?”

“I’m here because I fucking can be,” Ryan quips back, rolling his eyes as Jason and Jordie come to stand at Jamie’s side. “I didn’t know you were my boss now too.”

“Don’t get smart, Kes,” Jordie warns. “Does Saint even know you’re here?”

“As a matter of a fact, he does. Does he know about you guys?”`

“We don’t know where Tyler went. He left over an hour ago,” Oleksiak replies, shrugging. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Jamie warns. “Ask Jason about what happened to the last man that lied to me.”

Oleksiak rolls his eyes. “If I knew, I would say something, but I don’t. I don’t know what the fuck you want from me. I don't work for you.”

“You know, fuck Tyler for now, but why were you guys all here? Is he here?” Jamie questions. “Is it Sebastian that’s here?”

Oleksiak doesn’t reply. 

“Oh. Super father left his son here with you two as security?” Jamie mocks. “Pathetic.”

“Actually, Thornton and McQuaid are stationed at the floor entrance, and Kuzenstov is up in the room with Sebby right now. What other shit do you have to talk?” Ryan hisses. “Anything happens at this hospital, Saint’s best men will know. Tyler didn’t want to leave his son’s side. Don’t talk shit about something you have no fucking clue about.”

“All I need to know is where he is,” Jamie replies coldly. “This isn’t a conversation involving either of you.”

Oleksiak rolls his eyes. “Listen, I don’t know where he went. He knows this city better than I do, and way better than you do. He could be anywhere.”

Jamie takes a step back, nodding his head. :

"Jordie, call Saint. I need Marchand’s address.”

“If Ty needed you here, he would have called,” Ryan hisses. “He’s an adult. He doesn’t need a babysitter.”

  
  


 

There’s a knock on the door. Brad doesn’t move, not until he hears Saint yelling his name through the door. Brad stands, walking towards the door. He opens the door just wide enough to put his body in the doorway. He scowls when he sees Jamie standing behind Saint.

“Listen. It’s late. I have a crying baby at home, and my wife is pissed. Is Tyler here?”

“I don’t know where Tyler is,” Brad replies, glaring at Jamie. “Maybe you should call him.”

Jamie nods, pulling out his phone, and dialing Tyler’s number. It’s not a moment before ringing can be heard from within the apartment. Saint glares at Brad. 

“Move aside.”

Brad obliges, pulling the door open wider to let the group of four men into his apartment. The tension within the apartment rockets up once Jamie and Tyler meet eyes, and once Saint sees the extent of who all came to Boston. 

“What the fuck are they doing here?” Jamie hisses, pointing towards Sidney, and Alex. “I sent you here for business, not to get fucked all weekend.”

Tyler laughs, putting his hand on Alex’s chest to prevent him from standing. 

He smiles as he replies,  “If that’s what was going on, do you really think I would be here? I’d be in Brad’s bedroom, getting topped like no tomorrow. Trust me, I would love to be getting fucked right now, but I have more pressing matters at hand.”

“Like what?” Jamie sneers. “You needed to talk to Saint. That’s all.”

“Sebastian has cancer,” Tyler deadpans. “At the base of his skull. We don’t know what type it is.”

The room falls silent, the tension almost immediately dissapaiting. Tyler slides forward, clasping his hands in front of his body. His head dips down for a moment, before he raises it to see Jamie’s rapidly reddening neck, his uncomfortable looks at Jordie. 

“All the doctor has told me is that whatever it is, it’s rare,” He continues. “So, instead of throwing myself off of the Zakim Bridge, I called some friends to help me deal with it. But, you’re right. I just came here to get fucked all weekend.”

Jamie’s hand shakes as he outreaches towards Tyler. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Tyler replies, ignoring Jamie’s hand. “You figured I was just off getting my brains fucked out. Didn’t wait for me to call when you knew I was perfectly fine, and Jamie, don’t try to tell me you didn’t. Oleksiak would have fucking said something.”

“If you don’t trust Tyler and this is going to be an issue,” Alex begins. “I can make some calls, and bring him into Washington with me.” 

“Fuck that. I'll call Jaro, and we can make this a big deal tonight,” Geno hisses. 

Jamie shakes his head. “No. No need. But, I do need to talk with Tyler in private for a moment,” He continues, looking towards Brad. 

Brad sighs, pointing towards his bedroom. Tyler rolls his eyes as he stands, motioning for Jamie to follow him. Jamie’s careful to avoid eye contact, keeping his head down as he follows Tyler into the bedroom. He doesn’t say anything until the door is shut, and even then, he only looks at Tyler. 

“What?” Tyler says, voice tired. “What do you have to say to me?”

“What was all of that shit in your basement?” He asks. “The cocaine, the guns, the map. What the fuck was that?” 

Tyler’s eyes go dark, his jaw clenching. “What else did you see?”

Jamie leans against Brad’s dresser, right hand rubbing the back of his neck. 

“The bills, the pictures, the tickets,” He replies, voice soft. “You and Brownie? New Zealand?”

Tyler nods. “He wanted to.”

“The shit in your basement?” Jamie asks, crossing his arms.

Tyler looks away for a moment. “I have a couple connections on the side. Nothing dangerous, just some connections I need to be able to keep for the foreseeable future.”

“For what?” Jamie asks.

Tyler scratches the back of his neck, sucking on his teeth. “So, so when the time comes, Markov is easier for me to take down.”

“You’re after him still? I figured you’d let it go.”

“He took my husband. There’s no letting it go,” He growls. “He damn near killed me. He turned my dad against me. There’s no letting it go.”

Jamie raise his hands, stepping to the side. “You’re right. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

Tyler’s shoulders drop as he sighs. “Do we have an issue? Do I need to find somewhere else to be?”

“No,” Jamie replies, too quickly for his own good. “No. I owe you an apology. I should have trusted Oleksiak, and should have waited to come.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

The clock ticks once, then twice. Jamie doesn’t say a word, too many thoughts crashing together in his head to form a sentence. He opens his mouth, just to close it, just to open it back up again. He sighs, looking down at the floor as he finally finds some words to say. 

“I just, I just had a bad feeling,” He replies truthfully. “I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the radio silence, and when I started to hear about Alex, and Sidney all coming up, I just started to worry.”

Tyler nods. “Thank you. For worrying. But Jamie, I’ll always come back to you in Dallas.”

A warm feeling spreads through Jamie’s chest, something he can’t quite explain, but something he doesn’t want to go away. He pretends that Tyler’s words don’t stir something up, that Jamie’s first thought is he only wants Tyler to come home to him, not to the city; he wants to be the one Tyler comes home to everyday, and he can’t quite put his finger on why. 

“No dying on me, kid,” Jamie smiles. 

“For you, Jamie? Anything.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry. i will be trying to update more regularly.  
> feedback welcomed, and greatly appreciated!!


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